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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ERNEST  CARROLL  MOORE 


En£dJ&y  Hi  Hall. 


HISTORY 


THE  REFORMATION 


THE  SIXTEENTH  CENTURY. 


VOLUME  FIFTH 


THE  REFORMATION  IN  ENGLAND. 


BY  J.  H.  MERLE  D'AUBIGNE",  D.  D. 

PRESIDENT  OF  THE   THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL   OF   GENEVA,   AND   VICK 
PRESIDENT   OF   THE   SOC1ETE  EVANGEHQUE. 


TRANSLATED  BY  H.  WHITE, 

B.A.  TRINITY  COLLEGE  CAMBRIDGE,  M.  A.  AND  PH.  DR.  HEIDELBERS 
THE   TRANSLATION  CAREFULLY  REVISED  BY  DR.   MERLE   D'ACBIGNK. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 
AMERICAN   TRACT   SOCIETY, 

150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


This  volume  is  an  exact  reprint  of  the  author's  original 
English  edition.  In  issuing  it,  the  publishers  express  no 
sanction  of  any  thing  concerning  which  evangelical  Chris- 
tians differ,  as  to  the  polity  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 

J'appelle  accessoire,  1'estat  des  affaires  de  ceste  vie  c&dn^ue  et 
transitoire.  J'appelle  principal,  le  gouvernement  spiritual  auquel  reluit 
souverainement  la  providence  de  Dieu. — Theodore  de  Beze. 

By  accessory,  I  mean  the  state  of  affairs  in  this  frail  and  transitory 
life ;  by  principal,  the  spiritual  government  in  which  God's  provideacc 
rules  supreme. — Theodore  Beza. 


1.5 
PREFACE  TO  VOLUME  FIFTH. 


IN  the  four  previous  volumes  the  author  has  described  the 
origin  and  essential  development  of  the  Reformation  of  the 
Sixteenth  Century  on  the  Continent ;  he  has  now  to  relate 
the  history  of  the  Reformation  in  England. 

The  notes  will  direct  the  reader  to  the  principal  sources 
whence  the  author  has  derived  his  information.  Most  of 
them  are  well  known ;  some,  however,  had  not  been  pre- 
viously explored,  among  which  are  the  later  volumes  of  the 
State  Papers  published  by  order  of  Government,  by  a  Com- 
mission of  which  the  illustrious  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  the  first 
president.  Three  successive  Home  Secretaries,  Sir  James 
Graham,  Sir  George  Grey,  and  the  Honourable  Mr  S.  H. 
Walpole,  have  presented  the  author  with  copies  of  the  several 
volumes  of  this  great  and  important  collection:  in  some 
instances  they  were  communicated  to  him  as  soon  as  printed, 
which  was  the  case  in  particular  with  the  seventh  volume, 
of  which  he  has  made  much  use.  He  takes  this  opportunity 
of  expressing  his  sincere  gratitude  to  these  noble  friends  of 
literature. 

The  History  of  the  Reformation  of  the  Sixteenth  Century, 
was  received  with  cordiality  on  the  Continent,  but  it  has  had 
a  far  greater  number  of  readers  hi  the  British  dominions 
and  in  the  United  States.  The  author  looks  upon  the  rela- 

1689423 


IV  PREFACE. 

tions  which  this  work  has  established  between  him  and  many 
distant  Christians,  as  a  precious  reward  for  his  labours.  Will 
the  present  volume  be  received  in  those  countries  as  favour- 
ably as  the  others?  A  foreigner  relating  to  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race  the  history  of  their  Reformation  is  at  a  certain 
disadvantage ;  and  although  the  author  would  rather  have 
referred  his  readers  to  works,  whether  of  old  or  recent  date, 
by  native  writers,  all  of  them  more  competent  than  himself 
to  accomplish  this  task,  he  did  not  think  it  becoming  him 
to  shrink  from  the  undertaking. 

At  no  period  is  it  possible  to  omit  the  history  of  the  Re- 
formation in  England  from  a  general  history  of  the  Refor- 
mation of  the  Sixteenth  Century ;  at  the  present  crisis  it  is 
less  possible  than  ever. 

In  the  first  place,  the  English  Reformation  has  been,  and 
still  is,  calumniated  by  writers  of  different  parties,  who  look 
upon  it  as  nothing  more  than  an  external  political  transfor- 
mation, and  who  thus  ignore  its  spiritual  nature.  History  • 
has  taught  the  author  that  it  was  essentially  a  religious 
transformation,  and  that  we  must  seek  for  it  in  men  of 
faith,  and  not,  as  is  usually  done,  solely  in  the  caprices  of 
the  prince,  the  ambition  of  the  nobility,  and  the  servility  of 
the  prelates.  A  faithful  recital  of  this  great  renovation 
will  perhaps  show  us 'that  beyond  and  without  the  measures 
of  Henry  VIII.  there  was  something — everything,  so  to  speak 
• — for  therein  was  the  essence  of  the  Reformation,  that  which 
makes  it  a  divine  and  imperishable  work. 

A  second  motive  forced  the  author  to  acknowledge  the 
necessity  of  a  true  History  of  the  English  Reformation.  An 
active  party  in  the  Episcopalian  Church  is  reviving  with 
zeal,  perseverance,  and  talent,  the  principles  of  Roman-ca- 
tholicism,  and  striving  to  impose  them  on  the  Reformed 
Church  of  England,  and  incessantly  attacking  the  founda- 
tions of  evangelical  Christianity.  A  number  of  young  men 


PREFACE.  V 

in  the  universities,  seduced  by  that  deceitful  mirage  which 
some  of  their  teachers  have  placed  before  their  eyes,  are 
launching  out  into  clerical  and  superstitious  theories,  and 
running  the  risk  of  falling,  sooner  or  later,  as  so  many  have 
done  already,  into  the  ever-yawning  gulf  of  Popery.  We 
must  therefore  call  to  mind  the  reforming  principles  which 
were  proclaimed  from  the  very  commencement  of  this  great 
transformation. 

The  new  position  which  the  Komish  court  is  taking  in 
England,  and  its  insolent  aggressions,  are  a  third  consid- 
eration which  seems  to  demonstrate  to  us  the  present  im- 
portance of  this  history.  It  is  good  to  call  to  mind  that 
the  primitive  Christianity  of  Great  Britain  perseveringly 
repelled  the  invasion  of  the  popedom,  and  that  after  the 
definitive  victory  of  this  foreign  power,  the  noblest  voices 
among  kings,  lords,  priests,  and  people,  boldly  protested 
against  it.  It  is  good  to  show  that,  while  the  word  of  God 
recovered  its  inalienable  rights  in  Britain,  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  popedom,  agitated  by  wholly  political  interests, 
broke  of  itself  the  chain  with  which  it  had  so  long  bound 
England. — We  shall  see  in  this  volume  the  English  go- 
vernment fortifying  itself,  for  instance  under  Edward  III., 
against  the  invasions  of  Rome.  It  has  been  pretended  in 
our  days,  and  by  others  besides  ultra-montanists,  that  the 
papacy  is  a  purely  spiritual  power,  and  ought  to  be  opposed 
by  spiritual  arms  only.  If  the  first  part  of  this  argument 
were  true,  no  one  would  be  readier  than  ourselves  to  adopt 
the  conclusion.  God  forbid  that  any  protestant  state  should 
ever  refuse  the  completest  liberty  to  the  Roman-catholic 
doctrines.  We  certainly  wish  for  reciprocity;  we  desire 
that  ultra-montanism  should  no  longer  throw  into  prison 
the  humble  believers  who  seek  consolation  for  themselves, 
and  for  their  friends,  in  Holy  Scripture.  But  though  a 
deplorable  fanaticism  should  still  continue  to  transplant  into 


VI  PREFACE. 

the  nineteenth  century  the  mournful  tragedies  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  we  should  persist  in  demanding  the  fullest  liberty, 
not  only  of  conscience,  but  of  worship,  for  Roman-catholics 
in  protestant  states.  We  shbuld  ask  it  in  the  name  of 
justice,  whose  immutable  laws  the  injustice  of  our  adver- 
saries can  never  make  us  forget ;  we  should  ask  it  on  be- 
half of  the  final  triumph  of  truth ;  for  if  our  demands  proved 
unavailing,  perhaps  with  God's  help  it  might  be  otherwise 
with  our  example.  When  two  worlds  meet  face  to  face,  in 
one  of  which  light  abounds,  and  in  the  other  darkness,  it  is 
the  darkness  that  should  disappear  before  the  light,  and  not 
the  light  fly  from  before  the  darkness.  We  might  go  farther 
than  this :  far  from  constraining  the  English  catholics  in 
anything,  we  would  rather  desire  to  help  them  to  be  freer  than 
they  are,  and  to  aid  them  in  recovering  the  rights  of  which 
the  Roman  bishop  robbed  them  in  times  posterior  to  the 
establishment  of  the  papacy ;  for  instance,  the  election  of 
bishops  and  pastors,  which  belongs  to  the  clergy  and  the 
people.  Indeed,  Cyprian,  writing  to  a  bishop  of  Rome  (Cor- 
nelius), demanded  three  elements  to  secure  the  legitimacy  of 
episcopal  election :  "  The  call  of  God,  the  voice  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  the  consent  of  the  co-bishops."*  And  the  coun- 
cil of  Rome,  in  1080,  said :  "  Let  the  clergy  and  the  people, 
with  the  consent  of  the  apostolic  see  or  of  their  metropolitan, 
elect  their  bishop." -J-  In  our  days, — days  distinguished  by 
great  liberty, — shall  the  church  be  less  free  than  it  was  in 
the  Middle  Ages  ? 

But  if  we  do  not  fear  to  claim  for  Roman-catholics  the 
rights'  of  the  church  of  the  first  ages,  and  a  greater  liberty 
than  what  they  now  possess,  even  in  the  very  seat  of  the 

*  Divinum  judicium,  populi  suffragium,  co-episcoporum  consensus. 
Epist.  55. 

•f-  Clerus  et  populus,  apostolicse  sedis,  yel  metropolitani  sui  oonsensu, 
pastorem  sibi  eligat.  Mansi,  xx.  p.  533. 


PREFACE.  Vli 

popedom,  are  we  therefore  to  say  that  the  state,  whether 
under  Edward  III.  or  in  later  times,  should  oppose  no  barrier 
against  Romish  aggressions?  If  it  is  the  very  life  and  soul 
of  popery  to  pass  beyond  the  boundaries  of  religion^  and  enter 
into  the  field  of  policy,  why  should  it  be  thought  strange  for 
the  state  to  defend  itself,  when  attacked  upon  its  own 
ground  ?  Can  the  state  have  no  need  of  precautions  against 
a  power  which  has  pretended  to  be  paramount  over  Eng- 
land, which  gave  its  crown  to  a  French  monarch,  which 
obtained  an  oath  of  vassalage  from  an  English  king,  and 
which  lays  down  as  its  first  dogma  its  infallibility  and  im- 
mutability ? 

And  it  was  not  only  under  Edward  III.  and  throughout 
the  Middle  Ages  that  Rome  encroached  on  royalty ;  it  has 
happened  in  modem  times  also.  M.  Mignet  has  recently 
brought  to  light  some  remarkable  facts.  On  the  28th  of 
June  1570,  a  letter  from  Saint  Pius  V.  was  presented  to  the 
catholic  king  Philip  II.  by  an  agent  just  arrived  from  Rome. 
"  Our  dear  son,  Robert  Ridolfi,"  says  the  writer,  "  will  ex- 
plain (God  willing)  to  your  majesty  certain  matters  which 

concern  not  a  little  the  honour  of  Almighty  God We 

conjure  your  majesty  to  take  into  your  serious  consideration 
the  matter  which  he  will  lay  before  you,  and  to  furnish  him 
with  all  the  means  your  majesty  may  judge  most  proper 
for  its  execution."  The  pope's  "dear  son,"  accordingly, 
explained  to  the  duke  of  Feria,  who  was  commissioned  by 
Philip  to  receive  his  communication,  "  that  it  was  proposed 
to  kill  queen  Elizabeth  ;  that  the  attempt  would  not  be  made 
Li  London,  Because  it  was  the  seat  of  heresy,  but  during  one 

of  her  journeys ;  and  that  a  certain  James  G would 

undertake  it."  The  same  day  the  council  met  and  deliberated 
on  Elizabeth's  assassination.  Philip  declared  his  willing- 
ness to  undertake  the  foul  deed  recommended  by  his  holi- 
ness ;  but  as  it  would  be  an  expensive  business,  his  ministers 


V1U  PREFACE. 

hinted  to  the  nuncio  that  the  pope  ought  to  furnish  the  money. 
This  horrible  but  instructive  recital  will  be  found  with  all  its 
details  in  the  Histoire  de  Marie  Stuart,  by  M.  Mignet.  vol.  ii. 
p.  159,  etc.  It  is  true  that  these  things  took  place  in  the 
sixteenth  century;  but  the  Romish  church  has  canonized 
this  priestly  murderer,  an  honour  conferred  on  a  very  small 
number  of  popes,  and  the  canonization  took  place  in  the 
eighteenth  century.*  This  is  not  a  very  distant  date. 

And  these  theories,  so  calculated  to  trouble  nations,  are  still 
to  be  met  with  in  the  nineteenth  century.  At  this  very  moment 
there  are  writers  asserting  principles  under  cover  of  which 
the  pope  may  interfere  in  affairs  of  state.  The  kings  of 
Europe,  terrified  by  the  deplorable  outbreaks  of  1848,  ap- 
pear almost  everywhere  ready  to  support  the  court  of  Rome 
by  arms ;  and  ultra-montanism  takes  advantage  of  this  to 
proclaim  once  more,  "  that  the  popedom  is  above  the  monar- 
chy ;  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  inferior  (the  king)  to  obey  the 
superior ;  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  superior  (the  pope)  to  de- 
pose the  sovereigns  who  abuse  their  power,  and  to  condemn 
the  subjects  who  resist  it ;  and,  finally,  that  this  public  law 
of  Christian  Europe,  abolished  by  the  ambition  of  sove- 
reigns or  the  insubordination  of  peoples,  should  be  revived." 
Such  are  the  theories  now  professed  not  only  by  priests 
but  by  influential  laymen,  j-  To  this  opinion  belong,  at 
the  present  hour,  all  the  zeal  and  enthusiasm  of  Roman- 
ism, and  this  alone  we  are  bound  to  acknowledge  is  con- 
sistent with  the  principles  of  popery.  And  accordingly  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  this  party  will  triumph,  unless  we  oppose 
it  with  all  the  forces  of  the  human  understating,  of  reli- 
gious and  political  liberty,  and  above  all,  of  the  word  of 

*  Acta  canonisationis  S.  Pii.  V.    Romse,  1720,  folio. 

•}•  See  in  particular  Le  Catholicisme,  le  Liberalisme  et  le  Socialisms,  and 
other  writings  of  Donoso  Cortes,  marquis  of  Valdegamas,  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  members  of  the  constitutional  party  in  Spain. 


PREFACE.  IX 

God.  The  most  distinguished  ofgan  of  public  opinion  in 
France,  alarmed  by  the  progress  of  these  ultramontane  doc- 
trines, said  not  long  ago  of  this  party :  "  In  its  eyes  there 
exists  but  one  real  authority  in  the  world,  that  of  the  pope. 
All  questions,  not  only  religious  but  moral  and  political,  are 
amenable  to  one  tribunal,  supreme  and  infallible,  the  pope's. 
The  pope  has  the  right  to  absolve  subjects  of  their  oath  of 
fidelity;  subjects  have  the  right  to  take  up  arms  against 
their  prince  when  he  rebels  against  the  decisions  of  the  holy 
sec.  This  is  the  social  and  political  theory  of  the  Middle 
Ages."* 

Since  the  popedom  asserts  claims  both  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral, the  church  and  the  state  ought  to  resist  it,  each  in  its 
own  sphere,  and  with  its  peculiar  arms:  the  church  (by 
which  I  mean  the  believers),  solely  with  Holy  Scrip- 
ture ;  the  state  with  such  institutions  as  are  calculated  to 
secure  its  independence.  What !  the  church  is  bound  to  de- 
fend what  belongs  to  the  church,  and  the  state  is  not  to 
defend  what  belongs  to  me  state?  If  robbers  should  en- 
deavour to  plunder  two  houses,  would  it  be  just  and  chari- 
table for  one  neighbour  to  say  to  the  other,  "  I  must  defend 
my  house,  but  you  must  let  yours  be  stripped?"  If  the 
pope  desires  to  have  the  immaculate  conception  of  the  Virgin, 
or  any  other  religious  doctrine,  preached,  let  the  fullest 
liberty  be  granted  him,  and  let  him  build  as  many  churches 
as  he  pleases  to  do  it  in :  we  claim  this  in  the  plainest  lan- 
guage. But  if  the  pope,  like  Saint  Pius,  desires  to  kill  the 
Queen  of  England,  or  at  least  (for  no  pope  in  our  days,  were 
he  even  saint  enough  to  be  canonized,  would  conceive  such 
an  idea),  if  the  pope  desires  to  infringe  in  any  way  on 
the  rights  of  the  state,  then  let  the  state  resist  him  with 
tried  wisdom  and  unshaken  firmness.  Let  us  beware  of  an 
ultra-spiritualism  which  forgets  the  lessons  of  history,  and 

*  Journal  des  De'bats,  18th  January  1853. 
I* 


X  PBEFACE. 

overlooks  the  rights  of  kings  and  peoples.  Wh'en  it  is 
found  among  theologians,  it  is  an  error ;  in  statesmen,  it  is 
a  danger. 

Finally,  and  this  consideration  revives  our  hopes,  there  is 
a  fourth  motive  which  gives  at  this  time  a  particular  im- 
portance to  the  history  we  are  about  to  relate.  The  Refor- 
mation is  now  entering  upon  a  new  phasis.  The  move- 
ment of  the  sixteenth  century  had  died  away  during  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth,  and  it  was  often  to  churches 
which  had  lost  every  spark  of  life  that  the  historian  had 
then  to  recount  the  narrative  of  this  great  revival.  This  is 
the  case  no  longer.  After  three  centuries,  a  new  and  a 
greater  movement  is  succeeding  that  which  we  describe  in 
these  volumes.  The  principles  of  the  religious  regeneration, 
which  God  accomplished  three  hundred  years  ago,  are  now 
carried  to  the  end  of  the  world  with  the  greatest  energy. 
The  task  of  the  sixteenth  century  lives  again  in  the  nine- 
teenth, but  more  emancipated  from  the  temporal  power, 
more  spiritual,  more  general;  and  it  is  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  that  God  chiefly  employs  for  the  accomplishment  of  this 
universal  work.  The  English  Reformation  acquires  there- 
fore, in  our  days,  a  special  importance.  If  the  Reformation 
of  Germany  was  the  foundation  of  the  building,  that  of  Eng- 
land was  its  crowning  stone. 

The  work  begun  in  the  age  of  the  apostles,  renewed  in 
the  times  of  the  reformers,  should  be  resumed  in  our  days 
with  a  holy  enthusiasm ;  and  this  work  is  very  simple  and 
very  beautiful,  for  it  consists  in  establishing  the  throne  of 
Jesus  Christ  both  in  the  church  and  on  earth. 

Evangelical  faith  does  not  place  on  the  throne  of  the  church 
either  human  reason  or  religious  conscientiousness,  as  some 
would  have  it;  but  it  sets  thereon  Jesus  Christ,  who  is 
both  the  knowledge  taught  and  the  doctor  who  teaches  it ; 
who  explains  his  word  by  the  word,  and  by  the  light  of  his 


PREFACE.  XI 

Holy  Spirit ;  who  by  it  bears  witness  to  the  truth,  that  ia 
to  say,  to  his  redemption,  and  teaches  the  essential  laws 
which  should  regulate  the  inner  life  of  his  disciples.  Evan- 
gelical faith  appeals  to  the  understanding,  to  the  heart,  and 
to  the  will  of  .every  Christian,  only  to  impose  on  them  the 
duty  to  submit  to  the  divine  authority  of  Christ,  to  listen, 
believe,  love,  comprehend,  and  act,  as  God  requires. 

Evangelical  faith  does  not  place  on  the  throne  of  the 
church  the  civil  power,  or  the  secular  magistrate;  biit  it 
sets  thereon  Jesus  Christ,  who  has  said,  /  am  King ;  who 
imparts  to  his  subjects  the  principle  of  life,  who  establishes 
his  kingdom  here  on  earth,  and  preserves  and  develops  it ; 
and  who,  directing  all  mortal  events,  is  now  making  the 
progressive  conquest  of  th'e  world,  until  he  shall  exercise  in 
person  his  divine  authority  in  the  kingdom  of  his  glory. 

Finally,  evangelical  faith  does  not  place  on  the  throne  of 
the  church  priests,  councils,  doctors,  or  their  traditions, — or 
that  vice-God  (veri  Dei  vicem  gerit  in  terris,  as  the 
Romish  gloss  has  it),  that  infallible  pontiff,  who,  reviving  the 
errors  of  the  pagans,  ascribes  salvation  to  the  forms  of 
worship  and  to  the  meritorious  works  of  men.  It  sots 
thereon  Jesus  Christ,  the  great  High-priest  of  his  people, 
the  God-man,  who,  by  an  act  of  his  free  love,  bore  in  6ur 
stead,  in  his  atoning  sacrifice,  the  penalty  of  sin ; — who  has 
taken  away  the  curse  from  our  heads,  and  thus  become  the 
creator  of  a  new  race. 

Such  is  the  essential  work  of  that  Christianity,  which  the 
apostolic  age  transmitted  to  the  reformers,  and  which  it  now 
transmits  to  the  Christians  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

While  the  thoughts  of  great  numbers  are  led  astray  in  the 
midst  of  ceremonies,  priests,  human  lucubrations,  pontifical 
fables,  and  philosophic  reveries,  and  are  driven  to  and  fro  in 
the  dust  of  this  world,  evangelical  faith  rises  even  to  heaven, 
and  falls  prostrate  before  Him  who  sitteth  on  the  throne. 


Xii  PREFACE. 

The  Keformation  is  Jesus  Christ. 

"Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go,  if  not  unto  thee?"  Let 
others  follow  the  devices  of  their  imaginations,  or  prostrate 
themselves  beforS  traditional  superstitions,  or  kiss  the  feet  of 
a  sinful  man 0  King  of  glory,  we  desire  but  Thee  alone ! 

ENEVA,  March  1853. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  XVII. 

ENGLAND  BEFORE  THE  REFORMATION. 

CHAPTER  I. 

g 

Introduction— Work  of  the  Sixteenth  Century — Unity  and  Diversity- 
Necessity  of  considering  the  entire  Religious  History  of  England- 
Establishment  of  Christianity  in  Great  Britain— Formation  of  Ecclesi- 
astical Catholicism  in  the  Roman  Empire— Spiritual  Christianity  re- 
ceived by  Britain — Slavery  and  Conversion  of  Succat— His  Mission  to 
Ireland — Anglo-Saxons  re-establish  Paganism  in  England— Col umba 
at  lona — Evangelical  Teaching — Presbytery  and  Episcopacy  in  Great 
Britain — Continental  Missions  of  the  Britons — An  Omission,  Page  17 

CHAPTER  U? 

Pope  Gregory  the  Great — Desires  to  reduce  Britain — Policy  of  Gregory 
and  Augustine— Arrival  of  the  Mission — Appreciation— Britain  supe- 
rior to  Rome — Dionoth  at  Bangor — First  and  Second  Romish  Aggres- 
sions—Anguish of  the  Britons— Pride  of  Rome— Rome  has  recourse  to 
the  Sword — Massacre— Saint  Peter  scourges  an  Archbishop — Oswald 
— His  Victory — Gorman — Mission  of  Oswald  and  Aldan— Death  of 
Oswald, 31 

CHAPTER  III. 

Character  of  Oswy— Death  of  Aidan— Wilfrid  at  Rome— At  Oswald's 
Court— FInan  and  Colman— Independence  of  the  Church  attacked — 
Oswy's  Conquests  and  Troubles— Synodus  Pharensis—Cedda. — Dege- 
neration— The  Disputation — Peter,  the  Gatekeeper — Triumph  of  Rome 
— Grief  of  the  Britons — Popedom  organized  in  England — Papal  Exul- 
tation— Archbishop  Theodore — Cedda  re-ordained — Discord  in  the 
Church — Disgrace  and  Treachery  of  Wilfrid — His  End  —  Scotland 
attacked — Adamnan — lona  resists — A  King  converted  by  Architects 
—The  Monk  Egbert  at  lona— His  History— Monkish  Visions— Fall 
oflooa, 42 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Clement — Struggle  between  a  Scotchman  and  an  Englishman — Word  of 
God  only — Clement's  Sxiccess — His  Condemnation — Virgil  and  the 
Antipodes— John  Scotus  and  Philosophical  Religion — Alfred  and  the 
Bible— Darkness  and  Popery — William  the  Conqueror — Wulston  at 
Edward's  Tomb— Struggle  between  William  and  Hildebrand— The 
Pope  yields — Ciesaropapia, Page  60 

CHAPTER  V. 

Anselm's  Firmness — Becket's  Austerity — The  King  scourged— John  be- 
comes the  Pope's  Vassal— Collision  between  Popery  and  Liberty — 
The  Vassal  King  ravages  his  Kingdom — Religion  of  the  Senses  and 
Superstition, *  .  .  .  70 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Reaction— Grostete— Principles  of  Reform— Contest  with  the  Pope — 
Sewal— Progress  of  the  Nation — Opposition  to  the  Papacy— Conver- 
sion of  Bradwardine — Grace  is  Supreme — Edward  III. — Statutes  of 
Provisors  and  Prcemunire, 76 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Mendicant  Friars — Their  Disorders  and  Popular  Indignation— 
Wickliffe— ms  Success— Speeches  of  the  Peers  against  the  Papal  Tri- 
bute— Agreement  of  Bruges— Courtenay  and  Lancaster — Wickliffe 
before  the  Convocation — Altercation  between  Lancaster  and  Cour- 
tenay—Riot— Three  Briefs  against  Wickliffe — Wickliffe  at  Lambeth 
— Mission  of  the  Poor  Priests — Their  Preachings  and  Persecutions— 
Wickliffe  and  the  Four  Regents,  •  •  , 83 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Bible— Wickliffe's  Translation— Effects  of  its  Publication— Opposi- 
tion of  the  Clergy — Wickliffe's  Fourth  Phasis— Transubstantiation — 
Excommunication— Wickliffe's  Firmness — Wat  Tyler— The  Synod — 
The  Condemned  Propositions— Wickliffe's  Petition— Wickliffe  beforo 
the  Primate  at  Oxford— Wickliffe  summoned  to  Rome— His  Answer— 
The  Trialogue— His  Death— And  Character— His  Teaching— His  Ec- 
clesiastical Views — A  Prophecy, 94 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Wickliffites-Call  for  Reform— Richard  II.— The  First  Martyr- 
Lord  Cobham — Appears  before  Henry  V. — Before  the  Archbishop— 
His  Confession  and  Death— The  Lollards,  ....  107 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Learning  at  Florence — The  Tudors — Erasmus  visits  England— Sir 
Thomas  More— Dean  Colet  — Erasmus  and  young  Henry — Prince 
Arthur  and  Catherine— Marriage  and  Death— Catherine  betrothed  to 
Henry — Accession  of  Henry  VIII. — Enthusiasm  of  the  Learned- 
Erasmus  recalled  to  England — Cromwell  before  the  Pope— Catherine 
proposed  to  Henry — Their  Marriage  and  Court — Tournaments — 

Henry's  Danger, Page  113 

• 

CHAPTER  XL 

The  Pope  excites  to  War— Colet's  Sermon  at  St  Paul's— The  Flemish 
Campaign — Marriage  of  Louis  XII.  and  Princess  Mary — Letter  from 
Anne  Boleyn— Marriage  of  Brandon  and  Mary— Oxford — Sir  Thomas, 
More  at  Court— Attack  upon  the  Monasteries— Colet's  Household— He 
preaches  Reform— The  Greeks  and  Trojans,  ....  126 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Wolsey — His  first  Commission — His  Complaisance  and  Dioceses— Cardi- 
nal, Chancellor,  and  Legate — Ostentation  and  Necromancy — His  Spies 
and  Enmity — Pretensions  of  the  Clergy, 135 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Wolves— Richard  Hun— A  Murder— Verdict  of  the  Jury— Hun  con- 
demned, and  his  Character  vindicated — The  Gravesend  Passage-boat — 
A  Festival  disturbed — Brown  tortured — Visit  from  his  Wife— A  Martyr 
— Character  of  Erasmus— 1516  and  1517 — Erasmus  goes  to  Basle,  140 


BOOK  XVIII. 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  CHUSCH. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Tour  reforming  Powers — Which  reformed  England ! — Papal  Reform  ?— 
Episcopal  Reform  1 — Royal  Reform  ? — What  is  required  in  a  legitimate 
Reform  !— The  Share  of  the  Kingly  Power— Share  of  the  Episcopal  Au- 
thority— High  and  Low  Church— Political  Events — The  Greek  and 
Latin  New  Testament— Thoughts  of  Erasmus — Enthusiasm  and  Anger 
—Desire  of  Erasmus — Clamours  of  the  Priests — Their  Attack  at  Court — 
Astonishment  of  Erasmus— His  Labours  for  this  Work — Edwird  Lee  ; 
bis  Character — Lee's  Tragedy— Conspiracy,  ....  14!) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Effects  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  Universities— Conversations— A 
Cambridge  Fellow — Bilney  buys  the  New  Testament— The  First  Pas- 
sage— His  Conversion — Protestantism,  the  Fruit  of  the  Gospel — The 
Vale  of  the  Severn — William  Tyndale — Evangelization  at  Oxford — 
Bilney  teaches  at  Cambridge — Fryth — Is  Conversion  possible  ? — True 
Consecration — The  Reformation  has  begun,  .  .  .  Page  160 

CHAPTER  III. 

Alarm  of  the  Clergy — The  Two  Days— Thomas  Man's  Preaching — True 
real  Presence— Persecutions  at  Coventry — Standish  preaches  at  St 
Paul's— His  Petition  to  the  King  and  Queen — His  Arguments  and 
Defeat — Wolsey's  Ambition — First  Overtures  —  Henry  and  Francis 
Candidates  for  the  Empire— Conference  between  Francis  I.  and  Sir 
T.  Boleyn — The  Tiara  promised  to  Wolsey — The  Cardinal's  Intrigues 
with  Charles  and  Francis, .  1(0 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Tyndale-Sodbury  Hall— Sir  John  and  Lady  Walsh— Table-Talk -The 
Holy  Scriptures— The  Images— The  Anchor  of  Faith — A  Roman  Camp 
—Preaching  of  Faith  and  Works— Tyndale  accused  by  the  Priests— 
They  tear  up  what  ho  has  planted — Tyndale  resolves  to  translate  the 
Bible— His  first  Triumph— The  Priests  in  the  Taverns— Tyndale  sum- 
moned before  the  Chancellor  of  Worcester — Consoled  by  an  aged  Doc- 
tor— Attacked  by  a  Schoolman — His  Secret  becomes  known— He  leaves 
SodburyHall, 177 

CHAPTER  V. 

Luther's  Works  in  England — Consultation  of  the  Bishops — The  Bull  of 
Leo  X.  published  in  England — Luther's  Books  burnt — Letter  of  Henry 
VIII. — He  undertakes  to  write  against  Luther — Cry  of  Alarm — Tra- 
dition and  Sacramentalism— Prudence  of  Sir  T.  More— The  Book 
presented  to  the  Pope— Defender  of  the  Faith— Exultation  of  the 
King,  188 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Wolsey's  Machinations  to  obtain  the  Tiara — He  gains  Charles  V. — Alli- 
ance between  Henry  and  Charles — Wolsey  offers  to  command  the 
Troops — Treaty  of  Bruges— Henry  believes  himself  King  of  France — 
Victories  of  Francis  I.— Death  of  Leo  X 195 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Just  Men  of  Lincolnshire — Their  Assemblies  and  Teaching — Agnes 
and  Morden — Itinerant  Libraries — Polemical  Conversations— Sarcasm 
• — Royal  Decree  and  Terror — Depositions  and  Condemnations — Four 
Majtyra— A  Conclave— Charl|s  consoles  Wolsey,  ,  »  .  200 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Character  of  Tyndalo — He  arrives  in  London — He  preaches — The  C'oth 
and  the  Ell — The  Bishop  of  London  gives  Audience  to  Tyndale—  He  is 
dismissed — A  Christian  Merchant  of  London — Spirit  of  Love  in  the  Re- 
formation— Tyndale  in  Monmouth's  House—  Fryth  helps  him  to  tran- 
slate the  New  Testament — Importunities  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln- 
Persecution  in  London — Tyndale's  Resolution — He  departs— His  In- 
dignation against  the  Prelates — His  Hopes,  .  .  .  Page  206 

CHAPTER  IX. 

.Bilney  at  Cambridge — Conversions — The  University  Cross-bearer — A 
Leicestershire  Farmer — A  Party  of  Students — Superstitious  Practices 
— An  obstinate  Papist — The  Sophists— Latimer  attacks  Stafford— Bil- 
ney's  Resolution — Latimer  hears  Bilney's  Confession — Confessor  con- 
verted— New  Life  in  Latimer — Bilney  preaches  Grace— Nature  of  the 
Ministry — Latimer's  Character  and  Teaching— Works  of  Charity- 
Three  Classes  of  Adversaries— Clark  and  Dalaber,  .  .  216 

CHAPTER  X. 

Wolsey  seeks  the  Tiara — Clement  VII.  is  elected — Wolsey's  Dissimu- 
lation— Charles  offers  France  to  Henry — Pace's  Mission  on  this  Subject 
— Wolsey  reforms  the  convents— His  secret  Alliances — Treaty  between 
France  and  England— Taxation  and  Insurrection — False  Charges 
against  the  Reformers — Latimer's  Defence — Tenterden  Steeple,  229 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Tyndale  at  Hamburg— First  two  Gospels— Embarrassment— Tyndale 
at  NVittemberg— At  Cologne— The  New  Testament  at  Press — Sudden 
Interruption— Cochlaeus  at  Cologne— Rupert's  Manuscripts — Discovery 
of  Cochlaeus — His  Inquiries — His  Alarm— Rincke  and  the  Senate's 
Prohibition — Consternation  and  Decision  of  Tyndale — Cochlaeus  writes 
to  England — Tyndale  ascends  the  Rhine — Prints  two  Editions  at 
Worms — Tyndale's  Prayer, 236 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Worms  and  Cambridge— St  Paul  resuscitated — Latimer's  Preaching— 
Never  Man  spake  like  this  Man— Joy  and  Vexation  at  Cambridge — 
Sermon  by  Prior  Buckingham — Irony — Latimer's  Reply  to  Bucking- 
ham— The  Students  threatened— Latimer  preaches  before  the  Bishop — 
He  is  forbidden  to  preach — The  most  zealous  of  Bishops— Barnes  the 
Restorer  of  Letters— Bilney  undertakes  to  convert  him — Barnes  offers 
his  Pulpit  to  Latimer  -Fry th's  Thirst  for  God— Christmas  Eve,  1525 — 
Storm  against  Barnes— Ferment  in  the  Colleges — Germany  at  Cam- 
bridge—Meetings at  Oxford— General  Expectation,  .  ,  246 


10  CONTENTS* 

t 

BOOK  XIX. 

THE  ENGLISH  NEW  TESTAMENT  AND  THE  COURT  OP  ROME, 

CHAPTER  I. 

Church  and  State  essentially  distinct — Their  fundamental  Principles— 
What  restores  Life  to  the  Church — Separation  from  Rome  necessary — 
Reform  and  Liberty — The  New  Testament  crosses  the  Sea — Is  hidden 
in  London— Garret's  Preaching  and  Zeal — Dissemination  of  Scripture 
— What  the  People  find  in  it — The  Effects  it  produces — Tyndale's 
Explanations — Roper,  More's  Son-in-law— Garret  carries  Tyndale's 
Testament  to  Oxford— Henry  and  his  Valet — The  Supplication  of  the 
Beggars — Two  Sorts  of  Beggars  — Evils  caused  by  Priests— More's 
Supplications  of  the  Souls  in  Purgatory,  .  .  .  Page  2G1 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  two  Authorities — Commencement  of  the  Search — Garret  at  Oxford 
— His  Flight— His  Return  and  Im'prisonment — Escapes  and  takes 
Refuge  with  Dalaber — Garret  and  Dalaber  at  Prayer — The  Magnifi- 
cat—Surprise among  the  Doctors— Clark's  Advice— Fraternal  Love  at 
Oxford— Alarm  of  Dalaber — His  Arrest  and  Examination — He  is 
tortured— Garret  and  twenty  Fellows  imprisoned — The  Cellar — Con- 
demnation and  Humiliation,  .  .  • 273 

CHAPTER  III. 

Persecution  at  Cambridge— Barnes  arrested — A  grand  Search— Barnes 
at  Wolsey's  Palace— Interrogated  by  the  Cardinal— Conversation  be- 
tween Wolsey  and  Barnes— Barnes  threatened  with  the  Stake— His 
Fall  and  public  Penance— Richard  Bayfield — His  Faith  and  Imprison- 
ment— Visits  Cambridge — Joins  Tyndale— The  Confessors  in  the  Cellar 
at  Oxford— Four  of  them  die— The  rest  liberated,  ...  283 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Luther's  Letter  to  the  King— Henry's  Anger — His  Reply — Luther's  Re- 
solution—Persecutions—  Barnes  escapes — Proclamations  against  the 
New  Testament — W.  Roy  to  Caiaphas — Third  Edition  of  the  New 
Testament— The  Triumph  of  Law  and  Liberty— Hackett  attacks  the 
Printer— Hackett's  Complaints— A  Seizure— The  Year  1526  in  Eng- 
land  293 


CONTENTS.  11 


CHAPTER  V. 

Wolsey  desires  to  be  revenged — The  Divorce  suggested — Henry's  Senti- 
ments towards  the  Queen — Wolsey's  first  Steps— Longland's  Proceed 
ings— Refusal  of  Margaret  of  Valois— Objection  of  the  Bishop  of  Tar- 
bes  — Henry's  Uneasiness  —  Catherine's  Alarm  —  Mission  to  Spain 

Page  300 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Anne  Boleyn  appointed  Maid.of  Honour  to  Catherine — Lord  Percy  be- 
comes attached  to  her — Wolsey  separates  them — Anne  enters  Mar- 
garet's Household — Siege  of  Rome  ;  Cromwell — Wolsey's  Intercession 
for  the  Popedom— He  demands  the  Hand  of  Rene'e  of  France  for 
Henry — Failure— Anne  reappears  at  Court— Repels  the  King's  Ad- 
vances—Henry's Letter — He  resolves  to  accelerate  the  Divorce— Two 
Motives  which  induce  Anne  to  refuse  the  Crown — Wolsey's  Opposi- 
tion,   v.  .  .  .  .  .  .  307 

• 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Bilney's  Preaching— His  Arrest — Arthur's  Preaching  and  Imprisonment 
— Bilney's  Examination — Contest  between  the  Judge  and  the  Prisoner 
— Bilney's  \^%akness  and  Fall — His  Terrors — Two  Waiits — Arrival  of 
the  Fourth  Edition  of  the  New  Testament— Joy  among  the  Believers, 

317 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

•» 

The  Papacy  intercepts  the  Gospel — The  King  consults  Sir  Thomas  More 
— Ecclesiastical  Conferences  about  the  Divorce— The  Universities- 
Clarke— The  Nun  of  Kent— Wolsey  decides  to  do  the  King's  Will— Mis- 
sion to  the  Pope— Four  Documents— Embarrassment  of  Charles  V. — 
Francis  Philip  at  Madrid— Distress  and  Resolution  of  Charles — Ha 
turns  away  from  the  Reformation— Conference  at  the  Castle  of  St 
Angelo— Knight  arrives  in  Italy— His  Flight— Treaty  between  the 
Pope  and  the  Emperor — Escape  of  the  Pope — Confusion  of  Henry 
VIII.— Wolsey's  Orders- His  Entreaties,  .  .  .  .325 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  English  Envoys  at  Orvieto— Their  Oration  to  the  Pope— Clement 
gains  Time— The  Envoys  and  Cardinal  Sanctorum  Quatuor — Stratagem 
of  the  Pope— Knight  discovers  it  and  returns— The  Transformations  of 
Antichrist— The  English  obtain  a  new  Document — Fresh  Stratagem — 
Demand  of  a  second  Cardinal-legate— The  Pope's  new  Expedient  -  End 
of  the  Campaign, 334 


12  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Disappointment  in  England — War  declared  against  Charles  V — Wolsey 
desires  to  get  him  deposed  by  the  Pope — A  new  Scheme— Embassy  of 
Fox  and  Gardiner — Their  Arrival  at  Orvieto— Their  first  Interview 
with  Clement  —  The  Pope  reads  a  Treatise  by  Henry  —  Gardiner's 
Threats  and  Clement's  Promise— The  Modern  Fabius— Fresh  Inter- 
view and  Menaces— The  Pope  has  not  the  Key — Gardiner's  Proposition 
— Difficulties  and  Delays  of  the  Cardinals— Gardiner's  last  Blows— 
Reverses  of  Charles  V.  in  Italy— The  Pope's  Terror  and  Concession — 
The  Commission  granted — Wolsey  demands  the  Engagement — A  Loop- 
hole—The Pope's  Distress, Page  343 


CHAPTER  XL 

Fox's  Report  to  Henry  and  Anne — Wolsey's  Impression — He  demands 
the  Decretal— One  of  the  Cardinal's  petty  Manoeuvres— He  sets  his 
Conscience  at  Rest — Gardiner  fails  at  Rome — Wolsey's  new  Perfidy — 
The  King's  Anger  against  the  Pope — Sir  T.  More  predicts  Religious 
Liberty  -Immorality  of  Ultramontane  Socialism— Erajmus  invited — 
Wolsey's  last  Flight — Energetic  Efforts  at  Rome — Clement  grants  all 
—Wolsey  triumphs — Union  of  Rome  and  England,  .  .  356 


BOOK  XX. 

THE  TWO  DIVORCESf 

CHAPTER  I. 

Progress  of  the  Reformation — The  two  Divorces— Entreaties  to  Anne 
Boleyn  —  The  Letters  in  the  Vatican  —  Henry  to  Anne  —  Henry's 
Second  Letter— Third — Fourth — Wolsey's  Alarm— His  fruitless  Pro- 
ceedings— He  turns — The  Sweating  Sickness— Henry's  Fears — New 
Letters  to  Anne— Anne  falls  sick  ;  her  Peace— Henry  writes  to  her 
—Wolsey's  Terror — Campeggio  does  not  arrive — All  dissemble  at 
Court, 366 


CONTENTS.  13 


CHAPTER  II. 

Coverdale  and  Inspiration — He  undertakes  to  translate  the  Scriptures— • 
Ilia  Joy  and  Spiritual  Songs — Tyball  and  the  Laymen — Coverdale 
preaches  at  Bumpstead — Revival  at  Colchester — Incomplete  Societies 
and  the  New  Testament  —  Persecution  —  Monmouth  arrested  and 
released, Page  379 


CHAPTER  III. 

Political  Changes — Fresh  Instructions  from  the  Pope  to  Campeggio — His 
Delays — He  unbosoms  himself  to  Francis — A  Prediction — Arrival  of 
Campcggio — Wolsey's  Uneasiness — Henry's  Satisfaction — The  Car- 
dinal's Project— Campeggio's  Reception — First  Interview  with  the 
Queen  and  with  the  King — Useless  Efforts  to  make  Campeggio  part 
with  the  Decretal— The  Nuncio's  Conscience— Public  Opinion — Meas 
ures  taken  by  the  King— His  Speech  to  the  Lords  and  Aldermen— 
Festivities — Wolsey  seeks  French  Support — Contrariety,  .  387 


CHAPTER  IV. 

True  Catholicity — Wolsey — Harman's  Matter — West  sent  to  Cologne- 
Labours  of  Tyndale  and  Fryth — Rincke  at  Frankfort — He  makes  a 
Discovery — Tyndale  at  Marburg — West  returns  to  England — His  Tor- 
tures in  the  Monastery, 403 


CHAPTER  V. 

Necessity  of  the  Reformation — Wolsey's  Earnestness  with  Da  Casale — 
An  Audience  with  Clement  VII. — Cruel  Position  of  the  Pope — A  Judas 
Kiss — A  new  Brief—  Bryan  and  Vannes  sent  to  Rome — Henry  and  Du 
Bellay — Wolsey's  Reasons  against  the  Brief— Excitement  in  London- 
Metamorphosis — Wolsey's  Decline — His  Anguish,  .  .  .  409 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Pope's  Illness — Wolsey's  Desire— Conference  about  the  Members  of 
the  Conclave — Wolsey's  Instructions — The  Pope  recovers — Speech  of 
the  English  Envoys  to  the  Pope— Clement  willing  to  abandon  England 
— The  English  demand  the  Pope's  Denial  of  the  Brief —Wolsey's  Alarm 
• — Intrigues — Bryan's  Clearsightedness — Henry's  Threats — Wolsey's 
new  Efforts— He  calls  for  an  Appeal  to  Rome,  and  retracts— Wolsey 
and  Du  Bellay  at  Richmond— The  Ship  of  the  State,  .  .  416 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Discussion  between  the  Evangelicals  and  the  Catholics— Union  of  Learn- 
ing and  Life — The  Laity  :  Tewkesbury — His  Appearance  before  the 
Bishops'  Court — He  is  tortured — Two  Classes  of  Opponents — A  Theo- 
logical Due! — Scripture  and  the  Church— Emancipation  of  the  Mind 
— Mission  to  the  Low  Countries— Tyndale's  Embarrassment— Tonstall 
wishes  to  buy  the  Books — Packington's  Stratagem — Tyndale  departs 
for  Antwerp— His  Shipwreck — Arrival  at  Hamburg— Meets  Cover- 
dale,  Page  425 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Royal  Session — Sitting  of  the  l-8th  June  ;  the  Queen's  Protest — 
Sitting  of  the  21st  June — Summons  to  the  King  and  Queen — Catherine's 
Speech  — She  retires — Impression  on  the  Audience— The  King's  Decla- 
ration— Wolsey's  Protest — Quarrel  between  the  Bishops — New  Sitting 
— Apparition  to  the  Maid  of  Kent — Wolsey  chafed  by  Henry — The 
Earl  of  Wiltshire  at  Wolsey's — Private  Conference  between  Catherine 
and  the  two  Legates, 436 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Trial  resumed— Catherine  summoned — Twelve  Articles— The  Wit- 
nesses' Evidence — Arthur  and  Catherine  really  married — Campeggio 
opposes  the  Argument  of  Divine  Right— Other  Arguments — The  Legates 
required  to  deliver  Judgment — Their  Tergiversations  —  Change  in  Men's 
Minds— Final  Session— General  Expectation — Adjournment  during 
Harvest — Campeggio  excuses  this  Impertinence — the  King'^  Indigna- 
tion—Suffolk's  Violence— Wolsey's  Reply — He  is  ruined — General  Ac- 
cusations— The  Cardinal  turns  to  an  Episcopal  Life,  .  .  446 


CHAPTER  X. 

Anne  Boleyn  at  Hever— She  reads  the  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man — 
Is  recalled  to  Court — Miss  Gainsford  and  George  Zouch— Tyndale's 
Book  converts  Zouch— Zouch  in  the  Chapel-Royal — The  Book  seized 
— Anne  applies  to  Henry— The  King  reads  the  Book — Pretended  In- 
fluence of  the  Book  on  Henry — The  Court  at  Woodstock — The  Park 
and  its  Goblins — Henry's  Esteem  for  Anne,  ....  453 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Embarrassment  of  the  Pope— The  Triumphs  of  Charles  decide  him — He 
traverses  the  Cause  to  Rome— Wolsey's  Dejection— Henry's  Wrath — 
His  Fears— Wolsey  obtains  Comfort— Arrival  of  the  two  Legates  at 


CONTEXTS.  15 

Grafton— Wolsey's  Reception  by  Henry— Wolsey  and  Norfolk  at  Din- 
ner— Henry  with  Anne— Conference  between  the  King  and  the  Cardi- 
nal—Wolsey's  Joy  and  Grief— The  Supper  at  Euston— Campeggio's 
Farewell  Audience— Wolsey's  Disgrace — Campeggio  at  Dover — He  is 
accused  by  the  Courtiers — Leaves  England — Wolsey  foresees  his  own 
Fall  and  that  of  the  Papacy, Page  461 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Meeting  at  Waltham— Youth  of  Thomas  Cranmer— His  early  Educa- 
tion— Studies  Scripture  for  three  years — His  Functions  as  Examiner 
— The  Supper  at  Waltham — New  View  of  the  Divorce — Fox  communi- 
cates it  to  Henry — Cranmer's  Vexation — Conference  with  the  King — 
Cranccr  at  the  Boleyns, 472 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Wolsey  in  the  Cou~t  of  Chancery — Accused  by  the  Dukes— Refuses  to 
five  pp  th'.,  Gr3at  Seal— His  Despair — He  gives  up  the  Seal— Order  to 
denart — His  inventory — Alarm— The  Scene  of  Departure— Favourable 
Message  from  the  King — Wolsey's  Joy — His  Fool— Arrival  at  Esher, 

479 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Thomas  More  elected  Chancellor — A  lay  Government  one  of  the  grea.t 
Facts  of  the  Reformation— Wolsey  accused  of  subordinating  England 
to  the  Popj — He  implores  the  King's  Clemency  — His  Condemnation — 
Cromwell  at  Et-her— His  Character— He  sets  out  for  London— Sir 
Christopher  Hales  recommends  him  to  the  King — Cromwell's  Interview 
with  Henry  in  the  Park— A  new  Theory — Cromwell  elected  Member 
of  Parliament— Opened  by  Sir  Thomas  More — Attack  on  ecclesiastical 
Abuses — Reforms  pronounced  by  the  Convocation — Three  Bills — Ro- 
chester attacks  them — Resistance  of  the  House  of  Commons — Struggles 
— Henry  sanctions  the  three  Bills — Alarm  of  the  Clergy  and  Distur- 
bances,   486 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  last  Hour — More's  Fanaticism — Debates  in  Convocation— Royal 
Proclamation — The  Bishop  of  Norwich — Sentiences  condemned— Lati- 
mer's  Opposition — The  New  Testament  burnt— The  Persecution  be- 
gins-Hitton — Bayfield— Tonsiall  and  Packington— Bayfield  arrested 
— The  Rector  Patmore — Lollards'  Tower — Tyndale  and  Patmore — a 
Musician— Freese  the  Painter— Placards  and  Martyrdom  of  Bennet— 
Thomas  More  and  John  Petit— Bilney, 496 


16  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Wolsey's  Terror — Impeachment  by  the  Peers — Cromwell  saves  him— 
The  Cardinal's  Illness — Ambition  returns  to  him — His  Practices  in 
Yorkshire— He  is  arrested  by  Northumberland— His  Departure — Ar- 
rival of  the  Constable  of  the  Tower — Wolsey  at  Leicester  Abbey — Per- 
secuting Language— He  dies — Three  Movements  :  Supremacy,  Scrip- 
ture, and  Faith,  .  ...  Page  510 


HISTOKY  OF  THE  KEFOKMATION, 


BOOK  XVII. 

ENGLAND  BEFORE  THE  REFORMATION. 

CHAPTER  I. 

introduction— Work  of  the  Sixteenth  Century— Unity  and  Diversity- 
Necessity  of  considering  the  entire  Religious  History  of  England — 
Establishment  of  Christianity  in  Great  Britain— Formation  of  Ecclesi- 
astical Catholicism  in  the  Roman  Empire— Spiritual  Christianity  re- 
ceived by  Britain — Slavery  and  Conversion  of  Succat — His  Mission  to 
Ireland — Anglo-Saxons  re-establish  Paganism  in  England— Columba 
at  lona — Evangelical  Teaching — Presbytery  and  Episcopacy  in  Great 
Britain — Continental  Missions  of  the  Britons — An  Omission. 

THOSE  heavenly  powers  which  had  lain  dormant  in  the 
church  since  the  first  ages  of  Christianity,  awoke  from  their 
slumber  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  this  awakening  called 
the  modern  times  into  existence.  The  church  was  created 
anew,  and  from  that  regeneration  have  flowed  the  great  de- 
velopments of  literature  and  science,  of  morality,  liberty, 
and  industry,  which  at  present  characterize  the  nations  of 
Christendom.  None  of  these  things  would  have  existed 
without  the  Reformation.  Whenever  society  enters  upon  a 
new  era,  it  requires  the  baptism  of  faith.  In  the  sixteenth 
century  God  gave  to  man  this  consecration  from  on  high  by 
leading  him  back  from  mere  outward  profession  and  the 
mechanism  of  works  to  an  inward  and  lively  faith. 
VOL.  v.  2 


18  UNITY  AND  DIVERSITY. 

This  transformation  was  not  effected  without  straggles — 
struggles  which  presented  at  first  a  remarkable  unity.  On 
the  day  of  battle  one  and  the  same  feeling  animated  every 
bosom :  affer  the  victory  they  became  divided.  Unity  of  faith 
indeed  remained,  but  the  difference  of  nationalities  brought 
into  the  church  a  diversity  of  forms.  Of  this  we  are  about 
to  witness  a  striking  example.  The  Reformation,  which 
had  begun  its  triumphal  march  in  Germany,  Switzerland, 
France,  and  several  other  parts  of  the  continent,  was  des- 
tined to  receive  new  strength  by  the  conversion  of  a  cele- 
brated country,  long  known  as  the  Isle  of  Saints.  This 
island  was  to  add  its  banner  to  the  trophy  of  Protestantism, 
but  that  banner  preserved  its  distinctive  colours.  When 
England  became  reformed,  a  puissant  individualism  joined 
its  might  to  the  great  unity. 

If  we  search  for  the  characteristics  of  the  British  Refor- 
mation, we  shall  find  that,  beyond  any  other,  they  were  social, 
national,  and  truly  human.  There  is  no  people  among 
whom  the  Reformation  has  produced  to  the  same  degree 
that  morality  and  order,  that  liberty,  public  spirit,  and  ac- 
tivity, which  are  the  very  essence  of  a  nation's  greatness. 
Just  as  the  papacy  has  degraded  the  Spanish  peninsula,  has 
the  gospel  exalted  the  British  islands.  Hence  the  study 
upon  which  we  are  entering  possesses  an  interest  peculiar 
to  itself. 

In  order  that  this  study  may  be  useful,  it  should  have  a 
character  of  universality.  To  confine  the  history  of  a  people 
within  the  space  of  a  few  years,  or  even  of  a  century,  would 
deprive  that  history  of  both  truth  and  life.  We  might  in- 
deed have  traditions,  chronicles,  and  legends,  but  there 
would  be  no  history.  History  is  a  wonderful  organization, 
no  part  of  which  can  be  retrenched.  To  understand  the 
present,  we  must  know  the  past.  Society,  like  man  him- 
self, has  its  infancy,  youth,  maturity,  and  old  age.  Ancient 
or  Pagan  society,  which  had  spent  its  infancy  in  the  East 
in  the  midst  of  the  antihellenic  races,  had  its  youth  in  the 
animated  epoch  of  the  Greeks,  its  manhood  in  the  stern 
period  of  Roman  greatness,  and  its  old  age  under  the  decline 
of  the  empire.  Modern  society  has  passed  through  analpr 


THE  GOSPEL  CARRIED  TO  BRITAIN.  1& 

gous  stages :  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation  it  attained  that 
of  the  full-grown  man.  We  shall  now  proceed  to  trace  the 
destinies  of  the  church  in  England,  from  the  earliest  times 
of  Christianity.  These  long  and  distant  preparations  are 
one  of  the  distinctive  characteristics  of  its  reformation. 

Before  the  sixteenth  century  this  church  had  passed 
through  two  great  phases. 

The  first  was  that  of  its  formation — the  second  that  of  its 
corruption. 

In  its  formation  it  was  oriento-apostolical. 

In  its  corruption  it  was  successively  national-papistical 
and  royal-papistical. 

After  these  two  degrees  of  decline  came  the  last  and  great 
phasis  of  the  Reformation. 

In  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era  vessels  were 
frequently  sailing  to  the  savage  shores  of  Britain  from  the 
ports  of  Asia  Minor,  Greece,  Alexandria,  or  the  Greek 
colonies  in  Gaul.  Among  the  merchants  busied  in  calculat- 
ing the  profits  they  could  make  upon  tbe  produce  of  the 
East  with  which  their  ships  were  laden,  would  occasionally 
be  found  a  few  pious  men  from  the  banks  of  the  Meander  or 
the  Hermus,  conversing  peacefully  with  one  another  about 
the  birth,  life,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
and  rejoicing  at  the  prospect  of  saving  by  these  glad  tidings 
the  pagans  towards  whom  they  were  steering.  It  would 
appear  that  some  British  prisoners  of  war,  having  learnt 
to  know  Christ  during  their  captivity,  bore  also  to  their 
fellow-countrymen  the  knowledge  of,  this  Saviour.  It  may 
be,  too,  that  some  Christian  soldiers,  the  Corneliuses  of  those 
imperial  armies  whose  advanced  posts  reached  the  southern 
parts  of  Scotland,  desirous  of  more  lasting  conquests,  may 
have  read  to  the  people  whom  they  had  subdued,  the  writings 
of  Matthew,  John,  and  Paul.  It  is  of  little  consequence  to 
know  whether  one  of  these  first  converts  was,  according  to 
tradition,  a  prince  named  Lucius.  It  is  certain  that  the 
tidings  of  the  Son  of  man,  crucified  and  raised  again,  under 
Tiberius,  spread  through  these  islands  more  rapidly  than  the 
dominion  of  the  emperors,  and  that  before  the  end  of  the 


20  CULDEES. 

second  century  many  churches  worshipped  Christ  beyond 
the  walls  of  Adrian ;  in  those  mountains,  forests,  and  west- 
ern isles,  which  for  centuries  past  the  Druids  had  filled  with 
their  mysteries  and  their  sacrifices,  and  on  which  even  the 
Roman  eagles  had  never  stooped.*  These  churches  were 
formed  after  the  eastern  type :  the  Britons  would  have  re- 
fused to  receive  the  type  of  that  Rome  whose  yoke  they 
detested. 

The  first  thing  which  the  British  Christians  received  from 
the  capital  of  the  empire  was  persecution.  But  Diocletian, 
by  striking  the  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ  in  Britain,  only  in- 
creased their  number. f  Many  Christians  from  the  southern 
part  of  the  island  took  refuge  in  Scotland,  where  they  raised 
their  humble  roofs,  and  under  the  name  of  Culdees  prayed 
for  the  salvation  of  their  protectors.  When  the  surrounding 
pagans  saw  the  holiness  of  these  men  of  God,  they  aban- 
doned in  great  numbers  their  sacred  oaks,  their  mysterious 
caverns,  and  their  blood-stained  altars,  and  obeyed  the  gentle 
voice  of  the  Gospel.  After  the  death  of  these  pious  refugees, 
their  cells  were  transformed  into  houses  of  prayer.j:  In  305 
Constantius  Chlorus  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  the  Csesars, 
and  put  an  end  to  the  persecution. 

The  Christianity  which  was  brought  to  these  people  by 
merchants,  soldiers,  or  missionaries,  although  not  the  eccle- 
siastical Catholicism  already  creeping  into  life  in  the  Roman 
empire,  was  not  the  primitive  evangelism  of  the  apostles. 
The  East  and  the  South  could  only  give  to  the  North  of 
what  they  possessed.  The  mere  human  period  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  creative  and  miraculous  period  of  the  church. 
After  the  extraordinary  manifestations  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  had  produced  the  apostolic  age,  the  church  had  been 
left  to  the  inward  power  of  the  word  and  of  the  Comforter. 

*  Britannorum  inaccessa  Romanis  loca  Christo  vero  subdita.  (Ter- 
tullian  contra  Judseos,  lib.  vii.)  This  work,  from  its  bearing  no  traces 
of  Montanism,  seems  to  belong  to  the  .first  part  of  Tertullian's  life.  See 
also  Origen  in  Lucam,  cap.  i.  liomil.  6. 

+  Lactantius,  de  mortibus  persecutorum,  cap.  xii. 

J  Multi  ex  Brittonibus  Christian!  soevitiam  Diocletiani  timentes  ad 

eos  confugerant ut  vita  functorrm  cellse  in  templa  commutarentur 

Buchanan,  iv.  o.  xxxv. 


FORMATION  OF  ECCLESIASTICAL  CATHOLICISM.  21 

But  Christians  did  not  generally  comprehend  the  spiritual 
life  to  which  they  were  called.  God  had  been  pleased  to 
give  them  a  divine  religion ;  and  this  they  gradually  assi- 
milated more  and  more  to  the  religions  of  human  origin. 
Instead  of  saying,  in  the  'spirit  of  the  Gospel,  the  word  of 
God  first,  and  through  it  the  doctrine  and  the  life — the  doc- 
trine and  the  life,  and  through  them  the  forms ;  they  said, 
forms  first,  and  salvation  by  these  forms.  They  ascribed  to 
bishops  a  power  which  belongs  only  to  Holy  Scripture. 
Instead  of  ministers  of  the  word,  they  desired  to  have 
priests ;  instead  of  an  inward  sacrifice,  a  sacrifice  offered  on 
the  altar ;  and  costly  temples  instead  of  a  living  church. 
They  began  to  seek  in  men,  in  ceremonies,  and  in  holy 
places,  what  they  could  find  only  in  the  Word  and  in  the 
lively  faith  of  the  children  of  God.  In  this  manner  evan- 
gelical religion  gave  place  to  Catholicism,  and  by  gradual 
degeneration  in  after-years  Catholicism  gave  birth  to  popery. 

This  grievous  transformation  took  place  more  particularly 
in  the  East,  in  Africa,  and  in  Italy.  Britain  was  at  first 
comparatively  exempt.  At  the  very  time1  that  the  savage 
Picts  and  Scots,  rushing  from  their  heathen  homes,  were 
devastating  the  country,  spreading  terror  on  all  sides,  and 
reducing  the  people  to  slavery,  we  discover  here  and  there 
some  humble  Christian  receiving  salvation  not  by  a  clerical 
sacramentalism,  but  by  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
heart.  At  the  end  of  the  fourth  century  we  meet  with  an 
illustrious  example  of  such  conversions. 

On  the  picturesque  banks  of  the  Clyde,  not  far  from  Glas- 
gow, in  the  Christian  village  of  Bonavern,  now  Kilpatrick, 
a  little  boy,  of  tender  heart,  lively  temperament,  and  inde- 
fatigable activity,  passed  the  earlier  days  of  his  life.  He 
was  born  about  the  year  372  A.D.,  of  a  British  family,  and 
was  named  Succat.*  His  father,  Calpurnius,  deacon  of  the 
church  of  Bonavern,  a  simple-hearted  pious  man,  and  his 
mother,  Conchessa,  sister  to  the  celebrated  Martin,  arch- 
bishop of  Tours,j  and  a  woman  superior  to  the  majority  of 

*  In  baptismo  baud  Patricium  sed  Succat  a  pareutibus  fuisse  dictum. 
Usser.  Brit.  Eccl.  Antiq.  p.  428. 
f  Martini  Turonum  archiepiscopi  consanguineam.    Ibid. 


22  SUCCAT HIS  CONVERSION. 

her  sex,  had  endeavoured  to  instil  into  his  heart  the  doc- 
trines of  Christianity ;  but  Succat  did  not  understand  them. 
He  was  fond  of  pleasure,  and  delighted  to  be  the  leader  of 
his  youthful  companions.  In  the  midst  of  his  frivolities,  he 
committed  a  serious  fault. 

Some  few  years  later,  his  parents  having  quitted  Scot- 
land and  settled  in  Armorica  (Bretagne),  a  terrible  calamity 
befell  them.  One  day  as  Succat  was  playing  near  the  sea- 
shore with  two  of  his  sisters,  some  Irish  pirates,  commanded 
by  O'Neal,  carried  them  all  three  off  to  their  boats,  and  sold 
them  in  Ireland  to  the  petty  chieftain  of  some  pagan  clan. 
Succat  was  sent  into  the  fields  to  keep  swine.*  It  was  while 
alone  in  these  solitary  pastures,  without  priest  and  without 
temple,  that  the  young  slave  called  to  mind  the  Divine, 
lessons  which  his  pious  mother  had  so  often  read  to  him. 
The  fault  which  he  had  committed  pressed  heavily  night 
and  day  upon  his  soul:  he  groaned  in  heart,  and  wept. 
He  turned  repenting  towards  that  meek  Saviour  of  whom 
Conchessa  had  so  often  spoken ;  he  fell  at  His  knees  in  that 
heathen  land,  and  imagined  he  felt  the  arms  of  a  father 
uplifting  the  prodigal  son.  Succat  was  then  born  from  on 
high,  but  by  an  agent  so  spiritual,  so  internal,  that  he  knew 
not  "  whence  it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth."  The  gospel 
was  written  with  the  finger  of  God  on  the  tablets  of  his  heart. 
"  I  was  sixteen  years  old,"  said  he,  "  and  knew  not  the  true 
God;  but  in  that  strange  land  the  Lord  opened  my  unbelieving 
eyes,  and,  although  late,  I  called  my  sins  to  mind,  and  was 
converted  with  my  whole  heart  to  the  Lord  my  God,  who 
regarded  my  low  estate,  had  pity  on  my  youth  and  ignor- 
ance, and  consoled  me  as  a  father  consoles  his  children."-J- 

Such  words  as  these  from  the  lips  of  a  swineherd  in  the 
green  pastures  of  Ireland  set  clearly  before  us  the  Christianity 
which  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries  converted  many  souls 
in  the  British  isles.  In  after-years,  Rome  established  the 
dominion  of  the  priest  and  salvation  by  forms,  independently 

*  Cujus  porcorum  pastor  erat.    Usser.  Brit.  Eccl.  Antiq.  p.  431. 

t  Et  ibi  Dominus  aperuit  sensum  incredulitatis  mese,  ut  vel  sero  remo 
rarem  delicta  mea,  et  ut  converterer  toto  corde  ad  Dominum  Deum  meum. 
Patr.  Confess.  Usser.  431. 


EVANGELICAL  FAITH.  23 

of  the  dispositions  of  the  heart ;  but  the  primitive  religion  of 
these  celebrated  islands  was  that  living  Christianity  whose 
substance  is  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  whose  power  is 
the  grace  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  herdsman  from  the  banks 
of  the  Clyde  was  then  undergoing  those  experiences  wliteh 
so  many  evangelical  Christians  in  those  countries  have  sub- 
sequently undergone.  "  The  love  of  God  increased  more 
and  more  in  me,"  said  he,  "  with  faith  and  the  fear  of  His 
name.  The  Spirit  urged  me  to  such  a  degree  that  I  poured 
forth  as  many  as  a  hundred  prayers  in  one  day.  And  even 
during  the  night,  in  the  forests  and  on  the  mountains  where 
I  kept  my  flock,  the  rain,  and  snow,  and  frost,  and  sufferings 
which  I  endured,  excited  me  to  seek  after  God.  At  that 
time,  I  felt  not  the  indifference  which  now  I  feel :  the  Spirit 
fermented  in  my  heart."*  Evangelical  faith  even  then  ex- 
isted in  the  British  islands  in  the  person  of  this  slave,  and 
of  some  few  Christians  born  again,  like  him,  from  on  high. 

Twice  a  captive  and  twice  rescued,  Succat,  after  returning 
to  liis  family,  felt  an  irresistible  appeal  in  his  heart.  It  was 
his  duty  to  carry  the  gospel  to  those  Irish  pagans  among 
whom  he  had  found  Jesus  Christ.  His  parents  and  his  friends 
endeavoured  in  vain  to  detain  him ;  the  same  ardent  desire 
pursued  him  in  his  dreams.  During  the  silent  watches  of 
the  night  he  fancied  he  heard  voices  calling  to  him  from  the 
dark  forests  of  Erin :  "  Come,  holy  child,  and  walk  once 
more  among  us."  He  awoke  in  tears,  his  breast  filled  with 
the  keenest  emotion.-]-  He  tore  himself  from  the  arms  of  his 
parents,  and  rushed  forth — not  as  heretofore  with  his  play- 
fellows, when  he  would  climb  the  summit  of  some  lofty  hill 
— but  with  a  heart  full  of  charity  in  Christ.  He  departed ; 
"  It  was  not  done  of  my  own  strength,"  said  he;  "it  was 
God  who  overcame  all."  « 

Succat,  afterwards  known  as  Saint  Patrick,  and  to  which 
name,  as  to  that  of  Saint  Peter  and  other  servants  of  God, 

*  Ut  ctiam  in  sylvis  ct  monte^  manebam,  ct  ante  lucem  cxcitabar  ad 

orationem  per  nivcm,  per  gelu,  per  pluviam quia  tune  Spiritus  in  me 

fervebat.  Pair.  Confess.  Usser.  432. 

f  Valde  compuuctua  sum  corde  et  sic  expergefactus.  Patr.  Confess. 
Usser.  433. 


24  PATRICK'S  MISSION — PELAGIUS. 

many  superstitions  have  been  attached,  returned  to  Ireland, 
but  without  visiting  Rome,  as  an  historian  of  the  twelfth 
century  has  asserted.*  Ever  active,  prompt,  and  ingenious, 
he  collected  the  pagan  tribes  in  the  fields  by  beat  of  drum, 
antl  then  narrated  to  them  in  their  own  tongue  the  history 
of  the  Son  of  God.  Erelong  his  simple  recitals  exercised  a 
divine  power  over  their  rude  hearts,  and  many  souls  were 
converted,  not  by  external  sacraments  or  by  the  worship  of 
images,  but  by  the  preaching  of  the  word  of  God.  The  son 
of  a  chieftain  whom  Patrick  calls  Benignus,  learnt  from  him 
to  proclaim  the  Gospel,  and  was  destined  to  succeed  him. 
The  court  bard,  Dubrach  Mac  Valubair,  no  longer  sang 
druidical  hymns,  but  canticles  addressed  to  Jesus  Christ. 
Patrick  was  not  entirely  free  from  the  errors  of  the  time ; 
perhaps  he  believed  in  pious  miracles  ;  but  generally  speak- 
ing we  meet  with  nothing  but  the  gospel  in  the  earlier  days 
of  the  British  church.  The  time  no  doubt  will  come  when 
Ireland  will  again  feel  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which 
had  once  converted  it  by  the  ministrations  of  a  Scotchman. 
Shortly  before  the  evangelization  of  Patrick  in  Ireland,  a 
Briton  named  Pelagius,  having  visited  Italy,  Africa,  and 
Palestine,  began  to  teach  a  strange  doctrine.  Desirous  of 
making  head  against  the  moral  indifference  into  which  most 
of  the  Christians  in  those  countries  had  fallen,  and  which 
would  appear  to  have  been  in  strong  contrast  with  the 
British  austerity,  he  denied  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  ex- 
tolled free-will,  and  maintained  that,  if  man  made  use  of  all 
the  powers  of  his  nature,  he  would  attain  perfection.  We 
do  not  find  that  he  taught  these  opinions  in  his  own  coun- 
try ;  but  from  the  continent,  where  he  disseminated  them, 
they  soon  reached  Britain.  The  British  churches  refused 
to  receive  this  "pervers%  doctrine,"  their  historian  tells  us, 
"and  to  blaspheme  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ." f  They  do 
not  appear  to  have  held  the  strict  doctrine  of  Saint  Augus- 
tine :  they  believed  indeed  that  man  has  need  of  an  inward 

• 

*  Jocelinus,  Vita  in  Acta  Sanctorum. 

•f-  Verum  Britanni  cum  neque  suscipero  dogma  perversum,  gratiam 
Christi  blasphernando  nulla  teuus  vellent.  Beda,  Hist.  Angl.,  lib.  i.-  cap. 
irii.  et  xxi. 


SAXON  INVASION.  25 

change,  and  that  this  the  divine  power  alone  can  effect ;  but 
like  the  churches  of  Asia,  from  which  they  had  sprung,  they 
seem  to  have  conceded  something  to  our  natural  strength  in 
the  work  of  conversion ;  and  Pelagius,  with  a  good  inten- 
tion it  would  appear,  went  still  further.  However  that  may 
be,  these  churches,  strangers  to  the  controversy,  were  unac- 
quainted with  all  its  subtleties.  Two  Gaulish  bishops,  Ger- 
manus  and  Lupus,  came  to  their  aid,  and  those  who  had 
been  perverted  returned  into  the  way  of  truth.* 

Shortly  after  this,  events  of  great  importance  took  place 
in  Great  Britain,  and  the  light  of  faith  disappeared  in  pro- 
found night.  In  449,  Hengist  and  Horsa,  with  their  Saxon 
followers,  being  invited  by  the  wretched  inhabitants  to  aid 
them  against  the  cruel  ravages  of  the  Picts  and  Scots,  soon 
turned  their  swords  against  the  people  they  had  come  to 
assist.  Christianity  was  driven  back  with  the  Britons  into 
the  mountains  of  Wales  and  the  wild  moors  of  Northumber- 
land and  Cornwall.  Many  British  families  remained  in  the 
midst  of  the  conquerors,  but  without  exercising  any  religious 
influence  over  them.  While  the  conquering  races,  settled 
at  Paris,  Ravenna,  or  Toledo,  gradually  laid  aside  their 
paganism  and  savage  manners,  the  barbarous  customs  of 
the  Saxons  prevailed  unmoderated  throughout  the  kingdoms 
of  the  Heptarchy,  and  in  every  quarter  temples  to  Thor  rose 
above  the  churches  in  which  Jesus  Christ  had  been  wor- 
shipped. Gaul  and  the  south  of  Europe,  which  still  exhib- 
ited to  the  eyes  of  the  barbarians  the  last  vestiges  of  Ro- 
man grandeur,  alone  had  the  power  of  inspiring  some  degree 
of  respect  in  the  formidable  Germans,  and  of  transforming 
their  faith.  From  this  period,  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  and 
even  the  converted  Goths,  looked  at  this  island  with  unut- 
terable dread.  The  soil,  said  they,  is  covered  with  ser- 
pents ;  the  air  is  thick  with  deadly  exhalations  ;  the  souls  of 
the  departed  are  transported  thither  at  midnight  from  the 
shores  of  Gaul.  Ferrymen,  and  sons  of  Erebus  and  Night, 
admit  these  invisible  shades  into  their  boats,  and  listen,  with  a 
shudder,  to  their  mysterious  whisperings.  England,  whence 

*  Depravati  viam  corrcctionis  agnoscereiit.     Beda,  Hist.  Angl.,  lib.  L 
cap.  xvii.  ct  xxi. 

2*  B 


26  PAGANISM  KESTOKED. 

light  was  one  clay  to  be  shed  over  the  habitable  globe,  was 
then  the  trysting-place  of  the  dead.  And  yet  the  Christianity 
of  the  British  isles  was  not  to  be  annihilated  by  these  bar- 
barian invasions ;  it  possessed  a  strength  which  rendered  it 
capable  of  energetic  resistance. 

In  one  of  the  churches  formed  by  Succat's  preaching, 
there  arose  about  two  centuries  after  him  a  pious  man 
named  Columba,  son  of  Feidlimyd,  the  son  of  Fergus. 
Valuing  the  cross  of  Christ  more  highly  than  the  royal 
blood  that  flowed  in  his  veins,  he  resolved  to  devote  him- 
self to  the  King  of  heaven.  Shall  he  not  repay  to  the 
country  of  Succat  what  Succat  had  imparted  to  his ?  "I 
vill  go,"  said  he,  "  and  preach  the  word  of  God  ui  Scot- 
land;"* for  the  word  of  God  and  not  an  ecclesiastical  hier- 
archism  was  then  the  converting  agency.  The  grandson  of 
Fergus  communicated  the  zeal  which  animated  him  to  the 
hearts  of  several  fellow-christians.  They  repaired  to  the 
seashore,  and  cutting  down  the  pliant  branches  of  the 
osier,  constructed  a  frail  bark,  which  they  covered  with  the 
skins  of  beasts.  In  this  rude  boat  they  embarked  in  the 
year  565,  and  after  being  driven  to  and  fro  on  the  ocean,  the 
little  missionary  band  reached  the  waters  of  the  Hebrides. 
Columba  landed  near  the  barren  rocks  of  Mull,  to  the  south 
of  the  basaltic  caverns  of  Staffa,  and  fixed  his  abode  in  a 
small  island,  afterwards  known  as  lona  or  Icolmkill,  "  the 
island  of  Columba's  cell."  Some  Christian  Culdees,  driven 
out  by  the  dissensions  of  the  Picts  and  Scots,  had  already 
found  a  refuge  in  the  same  retired  spot.  Here  the  mission- 
aries erected  a  chapel,  whose  walls,  it  is  said,  still  exist 
among  the  stately  ruins  of  a  later  age.-j-  Some  authors 
have  placed  Columba  in  the  first  rank  after  the  apostles.  :J: 
True,  we  do  not  find  in  him  the  faith  of  a  Paul  or  a  John ; 
but  he  lived  as  in  the  sight  of  God ;  he  mortified  the  flesh, 
and  slept  on  the  ground  with  a  stone  for  his  pillow.  Amid 

*  Praedicaturus  verbum  Dei.    Usser.  Antiq.  p.  359. 

f  I  visited  lona  in  1845  with  Dr  Patrick  M'Farlan,  and  saw  these 
ruins.  One  portion  of  the  building  seems  to  be  of  primitive  architec- 
ture. 

J  Nulli  post  apostolos  secundus.    Notker. 


COLUMBA — HIS  TEACHING.  27 

this  solemn  scenery,  and  among  customs  so  rude,  the  form 
of  the  missionary,  illumined  by  a  light  from  heaven,  shone 
with  love,  and  manifested  the  joy  and  serenity  of  his  heart.  * 
Although  subject  to  the  same  passions  as  ourselves,  he 
wrestled  against  his  weakness,  and  would  not  have  one 
moment  lost  for  the  glory  of  God.  He  prayed  and  read, 
he  wrote  and  taught,  he  preached  and  redeemed  the  time. 
With  indefatigable  activity  he  went  from  house  to  house, 
and  from  kingdom  to  kingdom.  The  king  of  the  Picts  was 
converted,  as  were  also  many  of  his  people ;  precious  manu- 
scripts were  conveyed  to  lona;  a  school  of  theology  was 
founded  there,  in  which  the  word  was  studied ;  and  many 
received  through  faith  the  salvation  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus.  Erelong  a  missionary  spirit  breathed  over  this 
ocean  rock,  so  justly  named  "  the  light  of  the  western  world." 
The  Judaical  sacerdotalism  which  was  beginning  to  ex- 
tend in  the  Christian  church  found  no  support  in  lona. 
They  had  forms,  but  not  to  them  did  they  look  for  life.  It 
was  the  Holy  Ghost,  Columba  maintained,  that  made  a  ser- 
vant of  God.  When  the  youth  of  Caledonia  assembled 
around  the  elders  on  these  savage  shores,  or  in  their  humble 
chapel,  these  ministers  of  the  Lord  would  say  to  them: 
"The  Holy  Scriptures  are  the  only  rule  of  faith. •{-  Throw 
aside  all  merit  of  works,  and  look  for  salvation  to  the  grace 
of  God  alone,  f  Beware  of  a  religion  which  consists  of  out- 
ward observances :  it  is  better  to  keep  your  heart  pure  be- 
fore God  than  to  abstain  from  meats.  §  One  alone  is  your 
head,  Jesus  Christ.  Bishops  and  presbyters  are  equal ;  || 
they  should  be  the  husbands  of  one  wife,  and  have  their 
children  in  subjection."^ 

•  Qui  de  prosapia  regali  claruit ,       x 
Sed  morum  gratia  magis  emicuit. 

Usser.  Antiq.  p.  360. 

f  Prolatis  Sanctaj  Scripturso  testimoniis.    Adomn.  1.  i.  c.  22. 
J  Bishop  Munter,  Altbritische  Kirche.    Stud,  und  Krit.  vi.  745. 
§  Meliores  sunt  ergo  qui  non  magno  opere  jejunant,  cor  intrinsecua 
nitidum  coram  Deo  soUicite  servantes.     Gildas  in  ejusd.  Synod.  Ap- 
pend. 

||  In  Hibernia  episcopi  et  presbyteri  unum  sunt.    Ekkehardi  liber. 
ATX.  Geschichte  von  S.  Gall.  i.  267. 
V  Patrcm  habui  Calpornium  diaconum  filium  quondam  Potiti  Presby- 


28  PKESBYTERY  AND  EPISCOPACY. 

The  sages  of  lona  knew  nothing  of  transubstantiation  or 
of  the  withdrawal  of  the  cup  in  the  Lord's  Supper,  or  of 
auricular  confession,  or  of  prayers  to  the  dead,  or  tapers,  or 
incense ;  they  celebrated  Easter  on  a  different  day  from 
Rome;*  synodal  assemblies  regulated  the  affairs  of  the 
church,  and  the  papal  supremacy  was  unknown. -J-  The  sun 
of  the  gospel  shone  upon  these  wild  and  distant  shores.  In 
after-years,  it  was  the  privilege  of  Great  Britain  to  recover 
with  a  purer  lustre  the  same  sun  and  the  same  gospel. 

lona,  governed  by  a  simple  elder,  J  had  become  a  mission- 
ary college.  It  has  been  sometimes  called  a  monastery,  but 
the  dwelling  of  the  grandson  of  Fergus  in  nowise  resembled 
the  popish  convents.  When  its  youthful  inmates  desired 
to  spread  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  they  thought  not 
of  going  elsewhere  in  quest  of  episcopal  ordination.  Kneel- 
ing in  the  chapel  of  Icolmkill,  they  were  set  apart  by  the 
laying  on  of  the  hands  of  the  elders:  they  were  called 
bishops,  but  remained  obedient  to  the  elder  or  presbyter  of 
lona.  They  even  consecrated  other  bishops:  thus  Finan 
laid  hands  upon  Diuma,  bishop  of  Middlesex.  These  British 
Christians  attached  great  importance  to  the  ministry ;  but 
not  to  one  form  in  preference  to  another.  Presbytery  and 
episcopacy  were  with  them,  as  with  the  primitive  church, 
almost  identical.  §  Somewhat  later  we  find  that  neither  the 
venerable  Bede,  nor  Lanfranc,  nor  Anselm — the  two  last 

teri.  Patricii  Confessio.  Even  as  late  as  the  twelfth  century  we  meet 
with  married  Irish  bishops.  Bernard,  Vita  Malachise,  cap.  x.  » 

*  In  die  quidem  dominica  alia  tamen  quam  dicebat  hebdomade  celebra- 
bant.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  iv. 

t  Augustinus  novam  religionem  docet dum  ad  unius  episcopi  ro- 

mani  dominatum  omnia  revocat.  Buchan.  lib.  v.  cap.  xxxvi. 

J  Habere  autem  solet  ipsa  insula  rectorem  semper  abbatem  presby- 
tcrum  cujus  juri  et  omnis  provincia  et  ipsi  eliam  episcopi,  ordine  inusi- 
tato,  debeant  esse  subjecti,  juxta  exemplum  primi  doctoris  illius  qui 
non  episcopus  sed  presbyter  exstitit  et  monachus.  Beda,  Hist.  Eccl.,  iii. 
cap.  iv. 

§  Idem  est  ergo  presbyter  qui  episcopus,  et  antequam  diaboli  instinctu 

studia  in  religione  fierent communi  presbyterorum  concilio  Ecclcsire 

gubernabantur.  Indifierenter  de  episcopo  quasi  de  presbytero  est  loquu- 
tus(Paulus)  ....  sciant episcopi  se,  magis  consuetudine quam dispositionis 
dominicse  veritate,  presbyteris  esse  majores.  Hieronymus  ad  Titum, 
i.5. 


CONTINENTAL  MISSIONS.  29 

were  archbishops  of  Canterbury — made  any  objection  to  the 
ordinatjpn  of  British  bishops  by  plain  presbyters.*  The  re- 
ligious and  moral  element  that  belongs  to  Christianity  still 
predominated;  the  sacerdotal  element,  which  characterizes 
human  religions,  whether  among  the  Brahmins  or  elsewhere, 
was  beginning  to  show  itself,  but.  in  Great  Britain  at  least 
it  held  a  very  subordinate  station.  Christianity  was  still  a 
religion  and  not  a  caste.  They  did  not  require  of  the  ser- 
vant of  God,  as  a  warrant  of  his  capacity,  a  long  list  of 
names  succeeding  one  another  like  the  beads  of  a  rosary; 
they  entertained  serious,  noble,  and  holy  ideas  of  the  minis- 
try; its  authority  proceeded  wholly  from  Jesus  Christ  its 
head.  , 

The  missionary  fire,  which  the  grandson  of  Fergus  had 
kindled  in  a  solitary  island,  soon  spread  over  Great  Britain. 
Not  in  lona  alone,  but  at  Bangor  and  other  places,  the  spirit 
of  evangelization  burst  out.  A  fondness  for  travelling  had 
already  become  a  second  nature  in  this  people.-|-  Men  of 
God,  burning  with  zeal,  resolved  to  carry  the  evangelical 
torch  tp  the  continent — to  the  vast  wildernesses  sprinkled 
here  and  thexe  with  barbarous  and  heathen  tribes.  They 
did  not  set  forth  as  antagonists  of  Rome,  for  at  that  epoch 
there  was  no  place  for  suqh  antagonism;  but  lona  and 
Bangor,  less  illustrious  than  Rome  in  the  history  of  nations, 
possessed  a  more  lively  faith  than  the  city  of  the  Caesars ; 
and  that  faith, — unerring  sign  of  the  presence  of  Jesus 
Christ, — gave  those  whom  it  inspired  a  right  to  evangelize 
the  world,  which  Rome  could  not  gainsay. 

The  missionary  bishopsf  of  Britain  accordingly  set  forth 
and  traversed  the  Low  Countries,  Gaul,  Switzerland,  Ger- 
many, and  even  Italy.§  The  free  church  of  the  Scots  and 

*  Bishop  Munter  makes  this  remark  in  his  dissertation  On  tJie  An- 
ciint  British  Nation,  about  the  primitive  identity  of  bishops  and 
priests,  and  episcopal  consecration.  Stud,  und  Krit.  an.  1833. 

f  Natio  Scotorum  quibus  consuetude  peregrinandi  jam  paene  in 
oaturam  con  versa*  est.  Vita  S.  Galli,  §  47. 

\  They  were  called  episcopi  rfyionarii  because  they  had  no  settled 
dincese. 

§  Autiquo  tempore  doctissimi  sulebant  magistri  de  Hibernia  Brit- 
anniam.  Gallium,  Italiam  venire,  et  iiiultos  per  ecclesiaa  Christ!  fc» 
OUM  profcctus.  Aleuin,  Epp.  ccxxi. 


30  COLUMUANUS. 

Britons  did  more  for  the  conversion  of  central  Europe  than 
the  half-enslaved  church  of  the  Romans.  These  missionaries 
were  not  haughty  and  insolent  like  the  priests  of  Italy ;  but 
supported  themselves  by  the  work  of  their  hands.  Colum- 
banus  (whom  we  must  not  confound  with  Columba),* 
"  feeling  in  his  heart  the  burning  of  the  fire  which  the  Lord 
had  kindled  upon  earth,"  f  quitted  Bangor  in  590  with 
twelve  other  missionaries,  and  carried  the  gospel  to  the 
Burgundians,  Franks,  and  Swiss.  He  continued  to  preach 
it  amidst  frequent  persecutions,  left  his  disciple  Gall  in 
Helvetia,  and  retired  to  Bobbio,  where  he  died,  honouring 
Christian  Rome,  but  placing  the  church  of  Jerusalem  above 
it,  J — exhorting  it  to  beware  of  corruption,  and  declaring 
that  the  power  would  remain  with  it  so  long  only  as  it  re- 
tained the  true  doctrine  (recta  ratio}.  Thus  was  Britain 
faithful  in  planting  the  standard  of  Christ  in  the  heart  of 
Europe.  We  might  almost  imagine  this  unknown  people 
to  be  a  new  Israel,  and  Icolmkill  and  Bangor  to  have  in- 
herited the  virtues  of  Zion. 

Yet  they  should  have  done  more:  they  should  have 
preached — not  only  to  the  continental  heathens,  to  those  in 
the  north  of  Scotland  and  the  distant  Ireland,  but  also  to 
the  still  pagan  Saxons  of  England.  It  is  true  that  they 
made  several  attempts;  but  while  the  Britons  considered 
their  conquerors  as  the  enemies  of  God  and  man,  and 
shuddered  while  they  pronounced  their  name,  §  the  Saxons 
refused  to  be  converted  by  the  voice  of  their  slaves.  By  ne- 
glecting this  field,  the  Britons  left  room  for  other  workmen, 
and  thus  it  was  that  England  yielded  to  a  foreign  power,  be- 
neath whose  heavy  yoke  it  long  groaned  in  vain. 

*  Thierry,  in  his  Hist,  de  la  Conquite  de  I 'Angleterre,  makes  Columba 
and  Columbanus  one  personage.  Columba  preached  the  Gospel  in  Scot- 
land about  560,  and  died  in  597  ;  Columbanus  preached  among  the  Bur- 
gundians  in  600,  and  died  in  615. 

f  Ignitum  igne  Domini  desiderium.    Mabillon,  Acj;a,  p.  9. 

J  Salva  loci  dominicae  resurrectionis  singulars  prcerogativa.  Columb. 
Vita,  §  10. 

§  Nefandi  nominis  Saxoni  Deo  hominibusque  invisi.  Gildas,  De  ex» 
cidio  Britannise. 


OBEUOKY  TUB  GREAT.  31 


CHAPTER  II. 

Pope  Gregory  the  Great— Desires  to  reduce  Britain— Policy  of  Gregory 
and  Augustine— Arrival  of  the  Mission — Appreciation— Britain  supe- 
rior to  Rome — Dionoth  at  Bangor — First  and  Second  Romish  Aggres- 
sions— Anguish  of  the  Britons— Pride  of  Rome— Rome  has  recourse  to 
the  Sword — Massacre— Saint  Peter  scourges  an  Archbishop — Oswald 
— His  Victory — Corman — Mission  of  Oswald  and  Aidan— Death  of 
Oswald. 

• 

IT  is  matter  of  fact  that  the  spiritual  life  had  waned  in  Ita- 
lian Catholicism;  and  in  proportion  as  the  heavenly  spirit 
had  become  weak,  the  lust  of  dominion  had  grown  strong. 
The  Roman  metropolitans  and  their  delegates  soon  became 
impatient  to  mould  all  Christendom  to  their  peculiar  forms. 
About  the  end  of  the  sixth  century  an  eminent  man  filled 
the  see  of  Rome.  Gregory  was  born  of  senatorial  family, 
and  already  on  the  high  road  to  honour,  when  he  suddenly 
renounced  the  world,  and  transformed  the  palace  of  his 
fathers  into  a  convent.  But  his  ambition  had  only  changed 
its  object.  In  his  views,  the  whole  church  should  submit 
to  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  of  Rome.  True,  he  rejected 
the  title  of  universal  bishop  assumed  by  the  patriarch  of  Con- 
stantinople ;  but  if  he  desired  not  the  name,  he  was  not  the 
less  eager  for  the  substance.*  On  the  borders  of  the  West, 
in  the  island  of  Great  Britain,  was  a  Christian  church  inde- 
pendent of  Rome  :  this  must  be  conquered,  and  a  favourable 
opportunity  soon  occurred. 

Before  his  elevation  to  the  primacy,  and  while  he  was  as 
yet  only  the  monk  Gregory,  he  chanced  one  day  to  cross  a 
market  in  Rome  where  certain  foreign  dealers  were  exposing 
their  wares  for  sale.  Among  them  he  perceived  some  fair- 

*  He  says  (£pp.  lib.  ix.  ep.  xii.) :  De  Constantinopolitana  eoeleaia 
quis  earn  dubitct  apostolicaa  sedi  esse  subjectam  1 


32  DETERMINES  TO  SUBDUE  BRITAIN. 

haired  youthful  slaves,  whose  noble  bearing  attracted  his 
attention.  On  drawing  near  them,  he  learned  that  the 
Anglo-Saxon  nation  to  which  they  belonged  had  refused 
to  receive  the  gospel  from  the  Britons.  When  he  afterwards 
became  bishop  of  Eome,  this  crafty  and  energetic  pontiff, 
"  the  last  of  the  good  and  the  first  of  the  bad,"  as  he  has 
been  called,  determined  to  convert  these  proud  conquerors, 
and  make  use  of  them  in  subduing  the  British  church  to  the 
papacy,  as  he  had  already  made  use  of  the  Frank  monarchs 
to  reduce  the  Gauls.  Eome  has  often  shown  herself  more 
eager  to  bring  Christians  rather  than  idolaters  to  the  pope.* 
Was  it  thus  with  Gregory  ?  We  must  leave  the  question 
unanswered. 

Ethelbert,  king  of  Kent,  having  married  a  Christian  princess 
of  Frank  descent,  the  Eonym  bishop  thought  the  conjunc- 
ture favourable  for  his  design,  and  despatched  a  mission  un- 
der the  direction  of  one  of  his  friends  named  Augustine,  A.D. 
596.  At  first  the  missionaries  recoiled  from  the  task  ap- 
pointed them ;  but  Gregory  was  firm.  Desirous  of  gaining 
the  assistance  of  the  Frank  kings,  Theodoric  and  Theode- 
bert,  he  affected  to  consider  them  as  the  lords  paramount  of 
England,  and  commended  to  them  the  conversion  of  their 
subjects.-^  Nor  was  this  all.  He  claimed  also  the  support 
of  the  powerful  Brunehilda,  grandmother  of  these  two  kings, 
and  equally  notorious  for  her  treachery,  her  irregularitiesr 
and  her  crimes ;  and  did  not  scruple  to  extol  the  good  works 
and  godly  fear  of  this  modern  Jezebel.J  Under  such  aus- 
pices the  Eomish  mission  arrived  in  England.  The  pope 
had  made  a  skilful  choice  of  his  delegate.  Augustine  pos- 
sessed even  to  a  greater  extent  than  Gregory  himself  a  mix- 
ture of  ambition  and  devotedness,  of  superstition  and  piety, 
of  cunning  and  zeal.  He  thought  that  faith  and  holiness 
were  less  essential  to  the  church  than  authority  and  power ; 
and  that  its  prerogative  was  'not  so  much  to  save  souls  as 

*  We  know  the  history  of  Tahiti  and  of  other  modern  missions  of  the 
Romish  church. 

•f-  Subjectos  vestros.    Opp.  Gregorii,  torn.  iv.  p.  334. 

$.  Prona  in  bonis  operibua...  in  omnipotentis  Dei  timore.  Ibid. 

torn.  ii.  p.  835. 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  MISSION.  33 

(.0  collect  all  the  human  race  under  the  sceptre  of  Rome.* 
Gregory  himself  was  distressed  at  Augustine's  spiritual  pride, 
and  often  exhorted  him  to  humility. 

Success  of  that  kind  which  popery  desires  soon  crowned 
the  labours  of  its  servants.  The  forty-one  missionaries  hav- 
ing landed  in  the  isle  of  Thanet,  in  the  year  597,  the  king 
of  Kent  consented  to  receive  them,  but  in  the  open  air,  for 
fear  of  magic.  They  drew  up  in  such  a  manner  as  to  pro- 
duce an  effect  on  the  rude  islanders.  The  procession  was 
opened  by  a  monk  bearing  a  huge  cross  on  which  the  figure 
of  Christ  was  represented  :  his  colleagues  followed  chanting 
their  Latin  hymns,  and  thus  they  approached  the  oak  ap- 
pointed for  the  place  of  conference.  They  inspired  sufficient 
confidence  in  Ethelbert  to  gain  permission  to  celebrate  their 
worship  in  an  old  ruinous  chapel  at  Durovern  (Canterbury), 
where  British  Christians  had  in  former  times  adored  the 
Saviour  Christ.  The  king  and  thousands  of  his  subjects 
received  not  long  after,  with  certain  forms,  and  certain 
Christian  doctrines,  the  errors  of  the  Roman  pontiffs — as 
purgatory,  for  instance,  which  Gregory  was  advocating  with 
the  aid  of  the  most  absurd  fables.t  Augustine  baptized  ten 
thousand  pagans  in  one  day.  As  yet  Rome  had  only  set 
her  foot  in  Great  Britain;  she  did  not  fail  erelong  to  establish 
her  kingdom  there. 

We  should  be  unwilling  to  undervalue  the  religious  ele- 
ment now  placed  before  the  Anglo-Saxons,  and  we  can 
readily  believe  that  many  of  the  missionaries  sent  from 
Italy  desired  to  work  a  Christian  work.  We  think,  too, 
that  the  Middle  Ages  ought  to  be  appreciated  with  more 
equitable  sentiments  than  have  always  been  found  in  the 
persons  who  have  written  on  that  period.  Man's  conscience 
lived,  spoke,  and  groaned  during  the  long  dominion  of 
popery;  and  like  a  plant  growing  among  thorns,  it  often 
succeeded  in  forcing  a  passage  through  the  obstacles  of 
traditionalism  and  hierarchy,  to  blossom  in  the  quickening 
sun  of  God's  grace.  The  Christian  element  is  even  strongly 

*  We  find  the  same  idea  in  Wiseman,  Lect.  ix.,  On  the  principal  doo 
trines  and  practices  of  the  Catholic  Church.    Loud.  1836. 
t  Hoepfner,  De  origine  dogmatis  do  purgatorio.    Halle,  1792. 

B2 


34  BRITAIN  SUPERIOR  TO  ROME. 

marked  in  some  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  the  theocracy 
— in  Anselm  for  instance. 

Yet  as  it  is  our  task  to  relate  the  history  of  the  struggles 
which  took  place  between  primitive  Christianity  and  Ro- 
man-catholicism,  we  cannot  forbear  pointing  out  the  supe- 
riority of  the  former  in  a  religious  light,  while  we  acknow- 
ledge the  superiority  of  the  latter  in  a  political  point  of 
view.  We  believe  (and  we  shall  presently  have  a  proof  of 
it)*  that  a  visit  to  lona  would  have  taught  the  Anglo- 
Saxons  much  more  than  their  frequent  pilgrimages  to  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber.  Doubtless,  as  has  been  remarked,  these 
pilgrims  contemplated  at  Rome  "  the  noble  monuments  of 
antiquity,"  but  there  existed  at  that  time  in  the  British 
islands — and  it  has  been  too  often  overlooked — a  Chris- 
tianity which,  if  not  perfectly  pure,  was  at  least  better  than 
that  of  popery.  The  British  church,  which  at  the  beginning 
of  the  seventh  century  carried  faith  and  civilization  into 
Burgundy,  the  Vosges  mountains,  and  Switzerland,  might 
well  have  spread  them  both  over  Britain.  The  influence  of 
the  arts,  whose  civilizing  influence  we  are  far  from  depre- 
ciating, would  have  come  later. 

But  so  far  was  the  Christianity  of  the  Britons  from  con- 
verting the  Saxon  heptarchy,  that  it  was,  alas!  the  Ro- 
manism of  the  heptarchy  which  was  destined  to  conquer 
Britain.  These  struggles  between  the  Roman  and  British 
churches,  which  fill  all  the  seventh  century,  are  of  the 
highest  importance  to  the  English  church,  for  they  establish 
clearly  its  primitive  liberty.  They  possess  also  great  in- 
terest for  the  other  churches  of  the  West,  as  showing  in  the 
most  striking  characters  the  usurping  acts  by  which  the 
papacy  eventually  reduced  them  beneath  its  yoke. 

Augustine,  appointed  archbishop  not  only  of  the  Saxons, 
but  of  the  free  Britons,  was  settled  by  papal  ordinance,  first 
at  London  and  afterwards  at  Canterbury.  Being  at  the 
head  of  a  hierarchy  composed  of  twelve  bishops,  he  soon 
attempted  to  bring  all  the  Christians  of  Britain  under  the 
Roman  jurisdiction.  At  that  time  there  existed  at  Bangor,-f- 

*  In  the  history  of  Oswald,  king  of  Northumberland. 

t  Bann-cor,  the  choir  on  tho  steep  hill.    Carlisle,  Top.  Diet.  Wales. 


DIONOTH  AT  BANGOR.  35 

in  North  Wales,  a  large  Christian  society,  amounting  to 
nearly  three  thousand  individuals,  collected  together  to  work 
with  their  own  hands,*  to  study,  and  to  pray,  and  from  whose 
bosom  numerous  missionaries  (Columbanus  was  among  the 
number)  had  from  time  to  time  gone  forth.  The  president  of 
this  church  was  Dionoth,  a  faithful  teacher,  ready  to  serve 
all  men  in  charity,  yet  firmly  convinced  that  no  one  should 
have  supremacy  in  the  Lord's  vineyard.  Although  one  of 
the  most  influential  men  in  the  British  church,  he  was 
somewhat  timid  and  hesitating ;  he  would  yield  to  a  certain 
point  for  the  love  of  peace ;  but  would  never  flinch  from  his 
duty.  He  was  another  apostle  John,  full  of  mildness,  and 
yet  condemning  the  Diotrephes,  who  love  to  have  pre-emin- 
ence among  the  brethren.  Augustine  thus  addressed  him : 
"  Acknowledge  the  authority  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome."  These 
are  the  first  words  of  the  papacy  to  the  ancient  Christians  of 
Britain.  "  We  desire  to  love  all  men,"  meekly  replied  the 
venerable  Briton :  "  and  what  we  do  for  you,  we  will  do  for 
him  also  whom  you  call  the  pope.  But  he  is  not  entitled  to 
call  himself  the  father  of  fathers,  and  the  only  submission 
we  can  render  him  is  that  which  we  owe  to  every  Chris- 
tian.''-!- This  was  not  what  Augustine  asked. 

He  was  not  discouraged  by  this  first  check.  Proud  of  the 
pallium  which  Rome  had  sent  him,  and  relying  on  the  swords 
of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  he  convoked  in  601  a  general  assem- 
bly of  British  and  Saxon  bishops.  The  meeting  took  place 
in  the  open  air,  beneath  a  venerable  oak,  near  Wigornia 
(Worcester  or  Hereford),  and  here  occurred  the  second 
Romish  aggression.  Dionoth  resisted  with  firmness  the 
extravagant  pretensions  of  Augustine,  who  again  summoned 
him  to  recognise  the  authority  of  Rome.J  Another  Briton 
protested  against  the  presumption  of  the  Romans,  who  as- 
cribed to  their  consecration  a  virtue  which  they  refused  to 

*  Are  unicuiquc  dabatur,  ut  ex  opere  manuum  quotidiano  se  posset  in 
victu  necessario  contiuere.  Preuves  do  I'hist.  do  Bretagne,  ii.  25. 

f  Istam  obedientiam  DOS  sumus  parati  dare  et  solvere  ei  et  cuique 
Christiana  continue.  Wilkins,  Cone.  M.  Brit.  i.  26. 

£  Dionothus  de  non  approbaud*  apud  eos  Romanorum  auctoritate  dis- 
putabat.  I  bid.  24. 


36  DISTRESS  OP  THE  BRITONS. 

that  of  lona  or  of  the  Asiatic  churches.  *  The  Britons, 
exclaimed  a  third,  "  cannot  submit  either  to  the  haughtiness 
of  the  Romans  or  the  tyranny  of  the  Saxons."  f  To  no  pur- 
pose did  the  archbishop  lavish  his  arguments,  prayers,  cen- 
sures, and  miracles  even ;  the  Britons  were  firm.  Some  of 
them  who  had  eaten  with  the  Saxons  while  they  were  as 
yet  heathens,  refused  to  do  so  now  that  they  had  submitted 
to  the  pope. :{:  The  Scotch  were  particularly  inflexible ;  for 
one  of  their  number,  by  name  Dagam,  would  not  only  take 
no  food  at  the  same  table  with  the  Romans,  but  not  even 
under  the  same  roof.  §  Thus  did  Augustine  fail  a  second 
time,  and  the  independence  of  Britain  appeared  secure. 

And  yet  the  formidable  power  of  the  popes,  aided  by  the 
sword  of  the  conquerors,  alarmed  the  Britons.  They  imag- 
ined they  saw  a  mysterious  decree  once  more  yoking  the 
nations  of  the  earth  to  the  triumphal  car  of  Rome,  and  many 
left  Wigornia  uneasy  and  sad  at  heart.  How  is  it  possible 
to  save  a  cause,  when  even  its  defenders  begin  to  despair  ? 
It  was  not  long  before  they  were  summoned  to  a  n*ew  coun- 
cil. "  What  is  to  be  done  ?"  they  exclaimed  with  sorrowful 
forebodings.  Popery  was  not  yet  thoroughly  known :  it  was 
hardly  formed.  The  half-enlightened  consciences  of  these 
believers  were  a  prey  to  the  most  violent  agitation.  They 
asked  themselves  whether,  in  rejecting  this  new  power,  the} 
might  not  be  rejecting  God  himself.  A  pious  Christian,  who 
led  a  solitary  life,  had  acquired  a  great  reputation  in  the 
surrounding  district.  Some  of  the  Britons  visited  him,  and 
inquired  whether  they  should  resist  Augustine  or  follow  him.  || 
"  If  he  is  a  man  of  God,  follow  him,"  replied  the  hermit. — 
"  And  how  shall  we  know  that  ?" — "  If  he  is  meek  and  hum- 

*  Ordinationesque  more  asiatico  eisdem  contulisse.  Wilkins,  Cone. 
M.  Brit.  24. 

f  In  communionem  admittere  vel  Romanorum  fastuin  vel  Saxonum 
tyrannidem.  Ibid.  26. 

t  According  to  the  apostolic  precept,  1  Cor.  v.  9-11. 

§  Dagamus  ad  nos  veniens,  non  solum  cibum  irobiscum,  sed  nee  in  eodem 
hospitio  quo  vescebamur,  sumere  noluit.  Beda,  lib.  ii.  cap.  iv. 

||  Ad  quendam  virum  sanctum  et  prudentem  qui  apud  eos  anachoreti- 
cam  ducere  vitam  solebat,  consulentes  an  ad  prsedicationem  Augustinisuas 
doserere  traditiones  deberent.  Beda,  Hist.  Eccl.  lib.  ii.  cap.  ii. 


PRIDE  OF  ROMS.  '61 

ble  of  heart,  he  bears  Christ's  yoke  ;  but  if  he  is  violent  and 
proud,  he  is  not 'of  God." — "  What  sign  shall  we  have  of  his 
humility  ?" — "  If  he  rises  from  his  sent  when  you  enter  the 
room."  Thus  spoke  the  oracle  of  Britain  :  it  would  have 
been  better  to  have  consulted  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

But  humility  is  not  a  virtue  that  flourishes  among  Romish 
pontiffs  and  legates :  they  love  to  remain  seated  while  others 
court  and  worship  them.  The  British  bishops  entered  the 
council-hall,  and  the  archbishop,  desirous  of  indicating  his 
superiority,  proudly  kept  his  seat.*  Astonished  at  this  sight, 
the  Britons  would  hear  no  more  of  the  authority  of  Rome. 
For  the  third  time  they  said  No — they  knew  no  other  master 
but  Christ.  Augustine,  who  expected  to  see  these  bishops 
prostrate  their  churches  at  his  feet,  was  surprised  and  indig- 
nant. He  had  reckoned  on  the  immediate  submission  of 
Britain,  and  the  pope  had  now  to  learn  that  his  missionary' 

had  deceived  him Animated  by  that  insolent  spirit 

which  is  found  too  often  in  the  ministers  of  the  Romish 
church,  Augustine  exclaimed :  ""  If  you  will  not  receive 
brethren  who  bring  you  peace,  you  shall  receive  enemies  who 
will  bring  you  war.  If  you  will  not  unite  with  us  in  show- 
ing the  Saxons  the  way  of  life,  you  shall  receive  from  them 
the  stroke  of  death."-f-  Having  thus  spoken,  the  haughty 
archbishop  withdrew,  and  occupied  his  last  days  in  preparing 
the  accomplishment  of  his  ill-omened  prophecy4  Argu- 
ment had  failed :  now  for  the  sword ! 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  Augustine,  Edelfrid,  one  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  kings,  and  who  was  still  a  heathen,  collected  a 
numerous  army,  and  advanced  towards  Bangor,  the  centre 
of  British  Christianity.  Alarm  spread  through  those  feeble 
churches.  They  wept  and  prayed.  The  sword  of  Edelfrid 
drew  nearer.  To  whom  can  they  apply,  or  where  shall  they 

*  Factumquo  est  ut  venicntibus  illis  sederet  Augustinus  in  sella. 
Beda,  Hist.  Eccl.  lib.  ii.  cap.  ii. 

t  Si  pacem  cum  fructibus  accipcre  nollent,  bcllum  ab  hostibus  forent 
accepturi Ibid.  » 

J  Ipsum  Augustinnm  hujus  belli  non  modo  consciam  sed  et  impulsoren 
exstitisse.  Wilkins  adds,  that  the  expression  found  in  Bede,  concerning 
the  death  of  Augustine,  is  a  parenthesis  foisted  in  by  Romanist  writers, 
and  not  found  in  tho  Saxon  manuscripts.  Cone.  Brit.  p.  26. 


38          ROME  HAS  RECOURSE  TO  THE  SWORD. 

find  help  ?  The  magnitude  of  the  danger  seemed  to  reca.,'1 
the  Britons  to  their  pristine  piety :  not  to  men,  but  to  the 
Lord  himself  will  they  turn  their  thoughts.  Twelve  hun- 
dred and  fifty  servants  of  the  living  God,  calling  to  mind 
what  are  the  arms  of  Christian  warfare,  after  preparing  them- 
selves by  fasting,  met  together  in  a  retired  spot  to  send  up 
their  prayers  to  God.*  A  British  chief,  named  Brocmail, 
moved  by  tender  compassion,  stationed  himself  near  them 
with  a  few  soldiers ;  but  the  cruel  Edelfrid,  observing  from 
a  distance  this  band  of  kneeling  Christians,  demanded: 
"Who  are  these  people,  and  what  are  they  doing?"  On 
being  informed,  he  added :  "  They  are  fighting  then  against 
us,  although  unarmed ;"  and  immediately  he,  ordered  his 
soldiers  to  fall  upon  the  prostrate  crowd.  Twelve  hundred 
of  them  were  slain.-j*  They  prayed  and  they  died.  The 
Saxons  forthwith  proceeded  to  Bangor,  the  chief  seat  of 
Christian  learning,  and  razed  it  to  the  ground.  Romanism 
was  triumphant  in  England.  The  news  of  these  massacres 
filled  the  country  with  weeping  and  great  mourning  ;  but 
the  priests  of  Romish  consecration  (and  the  venerable  Bede 
shared  their  sentiments)  beheld  in  this  cruel  slaughter  the 
accomplishment  of  the  prophecy  of  the  holy  pontiff  Augus- 
tine ;  \  and  a  national  tradition  among  the  Welsh  for  many 
ages  pointed  to  him  as  the  instigator  of  this  cowardly  but- 
chery. Thus  did  Rome  loose  the  savage  pagan  against  the 
primitive  church  of  Britain,  and  fastened  it  all  dripping  with 
blood  to  her  triumphal  car.  A  great  mystery  of  iniquity  was 
accomplishing. 

But  while  the  Saxon  sword  appeared  to  have  swept  every- 
thing from  before  the  papacy,  the  ground  trembled  under  its 
feet,  and  seemed  about  to  swallow  it  up.  The  hierarchical 
rather  than  Christian  conversions  effected  by  the  priests  of 
Rome  were  so  unreal  that  a  vast  number  of  neophytes  sud- 
denly returned  to  the  worship  of  their  idols.  Eadbald,  king 

*  Ad  memoratam  aciem,  peracto  jejunio  triduano,  cum  aliis  orandi 
causa  convenerant.  Beda,  lib.  ii.'  cap.  ii. 

•f*  Extinctos  in  ea  pugna  ferunt  de  his  qui  ad  orandum  venerunt  Tiros 
circiter  mille  ducentos.  Ibid. 

t  Sic  completum  est  presajiium  s;:ncti  poEtificis  Augustini.    Ibid. 


SAINT  PETER  SCOURGES  AN  ARCHBISIIOP.  39 

of  Kent,  was  himself  among  the  number  of  apostates.  Such 
reversions  to  paganism  are  not  unfrequent  in  the  history  of 
the  Romish  missions.  The  bishops  fled  into  Gaul :  Melli- 
tus  and  Justus  had  already  reached  the  continent  in  safety, 
and  Lawrence,  Augustine's  successor,  was  about  to  follow 
them.  While  lying  in  the  church,  where  he  had  desired  to 
pass  the  night  before  leaving  England,  he  groaned  in  spirit 
as  he  saw  the  work  founded  by  Augustine  perishing  in  his 
hands.  He  saved  it  by  a  miracle.  The  next  morning  he 
presented  himself  before  the  king  with  his  clothes  all  disor- 
dered and  his  body  covered  with  wounds.  "  Saint  Peter," 
he  said,  "  appeared  to  me  during  the  night  and  scourged  me 
severely  because  I  was  about  to  forsake  his  flock."  *  The 
scourge  was  a  means  of  moral  persuasion  which  Peter  had 
forgotten  in  his  epistles.  Did  Lawrence  cause  these  blows 
to  be  inflicted  by  others — or  did  he  inflict  them  himself — or 
is  the  whole  account  an  idle  dream?  "We  should  prefer 
adopting  the  latter  hypothesis.  The  superstitious  prince, 
excited  at  the  news  of  this  supernatural  intervention,  eagerly 
acknowledged  the  authority  of  the  pope,  the  vicar  of  an 
apostle  who  so  mercilessly  scourged  those  who  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  displease  him.  If  the  dominion  of  Rome  had  then 
disappeared  from  England,  it  is  probable  that  the  Britons, 
regaining  their  courage,  and  favoured  in  other  respects  by 
the  wants  which  would  have  been  felt  by  the  Saxons,  would 
have  recovered  from  their  defeat,  and  would  have  imparted 
their  free  Christianity  to  their  conquerors.  But  now  the 
Roman  bishop  seemed  to  remain  master  of  England,  and  the 
faith  of  the  Britons  to  be  crushed  for  ever.  But  it  was  not 
so.  A  young  man,  sprung  from  the  energetic  race  of  the 
conquerors,  was  about  to  become  the  champion  of  truth  and 
liberty,  and  almost  the  whole  island  to  be  freed  from  the 
Roman  yoke. 

Oswald,  an  Anglo-Saxon  prince,  son  of  the  heathen  and 
cruel  Edelfrid,  had  been  compelled  by  family  reverses  to  take 
refuge  in  Scotland,  when  very  young,  accompanied  by  his 
brother  Oswy  and  several  other  youthful  chiefs.  He  had 

*  Apparuit  ei  beatissimus  apostolorum  princeps,  ct  multo  ilium  tern* 
poro  sccrcta)  noctis  flagellis  acrioribus  afficiens.  Beda,  lib.  ii.  cap.  ri. 


40  OSWALD'S  VICTORY. 

acquired  the  language  of  the  country,  been  instructed  in 
the  truths  of  Holy  Writ,  converted  by  the  grace  of  God,  and 
baptized  into  the  Scottish  church.*  He  loved  to  sit  at  the 
feet  of  the  elders  of  lona  and  listen  to  their  words.  They 
showed  him  Jesus  Christ  going  from  place  to  place  doing 
good,  and  he  desired  to  do  so  likewise ;  they  told  him  that 
Christ  was  the  only  head  of  the  church,  and  he  promised 
never  to  acknowledge  any  other.  Being  a  single-hearted 
generous  man,  he  was  especially  animated  with  tender  com- 
passion towards  the  poor,  and  would  take  off  his  own  cloak 
to  cover  the  nakedness  of  one  of  his  brethren.  Often,  while 
mingling  in  the  quiet  assemblies  of  the  Scottish  Christians, 
he  had  desired  to  go  as  a  missionary  to  the  Anglo-Saxons. 
It  was  not  long  before  he  conceived  the  bold  design  of  lead- 
ing the  people  of  Northumberland  to  the  Saviour ;  but  being 
a  prince  as  well  as  a  Christian,  he  determined  to  begin  by 
reconquering  the  throne  of  his  fathers.  There  was  in  this 
young  Englishman  the  love  of  a  disciple  and  the  courage  of 
a  hero.  At  the  head  of  an  army,  small  indeed,  but  strong 
by  faith  in  Christ,-}-  he  entered  Northumberland,  knelt  with 
his  troops  in  prayer  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  gained  a 
signal  victory  over  a  powerful  enemy,  634  A.D. 

To  recover  the  kingdom  of  his  ancestors  was  only  a  part 
v/f  his  task.  Oswald  desired  to  give  his  people  the  benefits 
of  the  true  faith.J  The  Christianity  taught  in  625  to  King 
Edwin  and  the  Northumbrians  by  Pendin  of  York  had  dis- 
appeared amidst  the  ravages  of  the  pagan  armies.  Oswald 
requested  a  missionary  from  the  Scots  who  had  given  him 
an  asylum,  and  they  accordingly  sent  one  of  the  brethren 
named  Gorman,  a  pious  but  uncultivated  and  austere  man. 
He  soon  returned  dispirited  to  lona :  "  The  people  to  whom 
you  sent  me,"  he  told  the  elders  of  that  island,  "are  so 
obstinate  that  we  must  renounce  all  idea  of  changing  their 
manners."  As  Aidan,  one  of  their  number,  listened  to  this 

*  Cum  magna  nobilium  juventute  apud  Scotos  sive  Pictos  exulabant, 
ibique  ad  doctrinam  Scottorum  cathechisati  et  baptismatis  gratia  sunt  re- 
creati.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  i. 

•r  Superveniente  cum  parvo  exercitu,  sed  fide  Christ!  munito.    Ibid. 

$  Desiderans  totam  cui  prseesse  ccepit  gentem  fidei  Christianae  gratia 
tnibui.  Ibid.  cap.  iii. 


MISSIONS  OF  AIDAN  AND  OSWALD.  41 

report,  he  said  to  himself:  "If  thy  love  had  been  offered  to 
this  people,  oh,  my  Saviour,  many  hearts  would  have  been 

touched! I  will  go  and  make  Thee  known — Thee  who 

breaketh  not  the  bruised  reed!"  Then,  turning  to  the  mis- 
sionary with  a  look  of  mild  reproach,  he  added  :  "  Brother, 
you  have  been  too  severe  towards  hearers  so  dull  of  heart. 
You  should  have  given  them  spiritual  milk  to  drink  until 
they  were  able  to  receive  more  solid  food."  All  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  man  who  spoke  so  wisely.  "  Aidan  is  worthy 
of  the  episcopate,"  exclaimed  the  brethren  of  lona ;  and,  like 
Timothy,  he  was  consecrated  by  the  laying  on  of  the  hands 
of  the  company  of  elders.* 

Oswald  received  Aidan  as  an  angel  from  heaven,  and  as 
the  missionary  was  ignorant  of  the  Saxon  language,  the 
king  accompanied  him  everywhere,  standing  by  his  side,  and 
interpreting  his  gentle  discourses.-f-  The  people  crowded 
joyfully  around  Oswald,  Aidan,  and  other  missionaries  from 
Scotland  and  Ireland,  listening  eagerly  to  the  Word  of  God.\ 
The  king  preached  by  his  works  still  more  than  by  his 
words.  One  day  during  Easter,  as  he  was  about  to  take 
his  seat  at  table,  he  was  informed  that  a  crowd  of  his 
subjects,  driven  by  hunger,  had  collected  before  his  palace 
gates.  Instantly  he  ordered  the  food  prepared  for  himself 
to  be  carried  out  and  distributed  among  them,  and  taking 
the  silver  vessels  which  stood  before  him,  he  broke  them  in 
pieces  and  commanded  his  servants  to  divide  them  among 
the  poor.  He  also  introduced  the  knowledge  of  the  Saviour 
to  the  people  of  Wessex,  whither  he  had  gone  to  marry  the 
king's  daughter ;  and  after  a  reign  of  nine  years,  he  died  at 
the  head  of  his  army  while  repelling  an  invasion  of  the 
idolatrous  Mercians,  headed  by  the  cruel  Penda  (5th  August 
642  A.D.)  As  he  fell  he  exclaimed :  "  Lord,  have  mercy  on 

*  Aydanfis  accepto  gradu  episcopatus,  qno  tempore  eodem  monasterio 
Segenius  abbas  et  presiyter  praefuit.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.v.  When  Bcde  tells 
us  that  a  plain  priest  was  president,  he  excludes  the  idea  that  there  were 
bishops  in  the  assembly.  See  1  Timothy  iv.  14. 

•f-  Evangelisante  antistite,  ipse  Rex  suis  ducibus  ac  ministris  interpres 
verbi  existeret  coelestis.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  iii. 

J  C'onflucbairt  ad  audiendum  verbum  Dei  populi  gaudentes.    Ibid. 
YOU  T.  8 


42  *  DEATH  OF  OSWALD. 

the  souls  of  my  people!"    This  youthful  prince  has  left  a 
name  dear  to  the  churches  of  Great  Britain. 

His  death  did  not  interrupt  the  labours  of  the  mission- 
aries. Their  meekness  and  the  recollection  of  Oswald  en- 
deared them  to  all.  As  soon  as  the  villagers  caught  sight 
of  one  on  the  high-road,  they  would  throng  round  him, 
begging  him  to  teach  them  the  Word  of  life*  The  faith 
which  the  terrible  Edelfrid  thought  he  had  washed  away 
in  the  blood  of  the  worshippers  of  God,  was  re-appearing  in 
every  direction ;  and  Rome,  which  once  already  in  the  days 
of  Honorius  had  been  forced  to  leave  Britain,  might  be  per- 
haps a  second  time  compelled  to  flee  to  its  ships  from  be- 
fore the  face  of  a  people  who  asserted  their  liberty. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Character  of  Oswy — Death  of  Aidan — Wilfrid  at  Rome — At  Oswald's 
Court— Finan  and  Colman — Independence  of  the  Church  attacked — 
Oswy's  Conquests  and  Troubles — Synodus  Pharensis  —  Cedda — Dege- 
neration— The  Disputation — Peter,  the  Gatekeeper — Triumph  of  Rome 
— Grief  of  the  Britons — Popedom  organized  in  England — Papal  Exul- 
tation—Archbishop Theodore — Cedda  re-ordained — Discord  in  the 
Church— Disgrace  and  Treachery  of  Wilfrid— His  End  —  Scotland 
attacked — Adamnan — Tona  resists — A  King  converted  by  Architects 
— The  Monk  Egbert  at  lona — His  History — Monkish  Visions — Fall 
of  lona. 

THEN  uprose  the  papacy.  If  victory  remained  with  the 
Britons,  their  church,  becoming  entirely  free,  might  even  in 
these  early  times  head  a  strong  opposition  against  the  papal 
monarchy.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  last  champions  of  liberty 
are  defeated,  centuries  of  slavery  awaited  the  Christian 
church.  We  shall  have  to  witness  the  struggle  that  took 
place  erelong  in  the  very  palace  of  the  Northumbrian  kings. 
Oswald  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Oswy,  a  prince  in- 
structed in  the  free  doctrine  of  the  Britons,  but  whose  religion 

*  Mox  congregati  in  unum  yicani,  verbum  vita  ab  illo  expetere  cura- 
bftnt.    Beda,  no.  ill.  cap.  xxvi 


CHAEACTER  OF  O8WY.  43 

was  all  external.  His  heart  overflowed  with  ambition,  and 
he  shrank  from  no  crime  that  might  increase  his  power.  The 
throne  of  Deira  was  filled  by  his  relative  Oswin,  an  amiable 
king,  much  beloved  by  his  people.  Oswy,  conceiving  a 
deadly  jealousy  towards  him,  marched  against  him  at  the 
head  of  an  army,  and  Oswin,  desirous  of  avoiding  bloodshed, 
took  shelter  with  a  chief  whom  he  had  loaded  with  favours. 
But  the  latter  offered  to  lead  Oswy's  soldiers  to  his  hiding- 
place  ;  and  at  dead  of  night  the  fugitive  king  was  basely 
assassinated,  one  only  of  his  servants  fighting  in  his  defence. 
The  gentle  Aidan  died  of  sorrow  at  his  cruel  fate.*  Such 
was  the  first  exploit  of  that  monarch  who  surrendered  Eng- 
land to  the  papacy.  Various  circumstances  tended  to  draw 
Oswy  nearer  Rome.  He  looked  upon  the  Christian  religion 
as  a  means  of  combining  the  Christian  princes  against  the 
heathen  Penda,  and  such  a  religion,  in  which  expediency 
predominated,  was  not  very  unlike  popery.  And  further, 
Oswy's  wife,  the  proud  Eanfeld,  was  of  the  Romish  com- 
munion. The  private  Chaplain  of  this  bigoted  princess  was 
a  priest  named  Romanus,  a  man  worthy  of  the  name.  He 
zealously  maintained  the  rites  of  the  Latin  church,  and  ac- 
cordingly the  festival  of  Easter  was  celebrated  at  court  twice 
in  the  year ;  for  while  the  king,  following  the  eastern  rule, 
was  joyfully  commemorating  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord, 
the  queen,  who  adopted  the  Roman  ritual,  was  keeping 
Palm  Sunday  with  fasting  and  humiliation.-}-  Eanfeld  and 
Romanus  would  often  converse  together  on  the  means  of 
winning  over  Northumberland  to  the  papacy.  But  the  first 
stop  was  to  increase  the  number  of  its  partisans,  and  th« 
opportunity  soon  occurred. 

A  young  Northumbrian,  named  Wilfrid,  w.as  one  day  ad 
initted  to  an  audience  of  the  queen.  He  was  a  comely  mar 
of  extensive  knowledge,  keen  wit,  and  enterprising  charactei 
of  indefatigable  activity,  and  insatiable  ambition.  J  In  thi- 

*  Aydanus  duodecimo  post  occisioncm  regis  quern  amabat  die,  de  seculi 
ablatus.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  xiv. 

t  Cum  rex  pascha  dominicum  solutis  jcjuniis  faceret,  tune  regina  cum 
Buis  persistens  adhuc  in  jejunio  diem  Palmarum  celebraret.  Ibid.  cap.  xz* 

$  Acris  erat  ingenii gratia  vennsti  rultus,  alacritate  actionis.  Beda, 

lib.  T.  p.  135. 


44  WILFRID  AT  ROME, 

interview  he  remarked  to  Eanfeld :  "  The  way  which  the 
Scotch  teach  us  is  not  perfect ;  I  will  go  to  Rome  and  learn 
in  the  very  temples  of  the  apostles."  She  approved  of  his 
project,  and  with  her  assistance  and  directions  he  set  out  for 
Italv.  Alas !  he  was  destined  at  no  very  distant  day  to 
chain  the  whole  British  church  to  the  Roman  see.  After  a 
short  stay  tit  Lyons,  where  the  bishop,  delighted  at  his  talents, 
would  have  desired  to  keep  him,  he  arrived  at  Rome,  and 
immediately  became  on  the  most  friendly  footing  with  Arch- 
deacon Boniface,  the  pope's  favourite  councillor.  He  soon 
discovered  that  the  priests  of  France  and  Italy  possessed 
more  power  both  in  ecclesiastical  and  secular  matters  than 
the  humble  missionaries  of  lona  ;  and  his  thirst  for  honours 
was  inflamed  at  the  court  of  the  pontiffs.  If  he  should  suc- 
ceed in  making  England  submit  to  the  papacy,  there  was  no 
dignity  to  which  he  might  not  aspire.  Henceforward  this 
was  his  only  thought,  and  he  had  hardly  returned  to  North- 
umberland before  Eanfeld  eagerly  summoned  him  to  court. 
A  fanatical  queen,  from  whom  he  might  hope  everything — 
a  king  with  no  religious  convictions,  and  enslaved  by  political 
interests — a  pious  and  zealous  prince,  Alfred,  the  king's  son, 
who  was  desirous  of  imitating  his  noble  uncle  Oswald,  and 
converting  the  pagans,  but  who  had  neither  the  discernment 
nor  the  piety  of  the  illustrious  disciple  of  lona  :  such  were 
the  materials  Wilfrid  had  to  work  upon.  He  saw  clearly 
that  if  Rome  had  gained  her  first  victory  by  the  sword  of 
Edelfrid,  she  could  only  expect  to  gain  a  second  by  craft  and 
management.  He  came  to  an  understanding  on  the  subject 
with  the  queen  and  Romanus,  and  having  been  placed  about 
the  person  of  the  young  prince,  by  adroit  flattery  he  soon 
gained  over  Alfred's  mind.  Then  finding  himself  secure  of 
two  members  of  the  royal  family,  lie  turned  all  his  attention 
to  Oswy. 

The  elders  of  lona  could  not  shut  their  eyes  to  the  dan- 
gers which  threatened  Northumberland.  They  had  sent 
Finan  to  supply  Aidan's  place,  and  this  bishop,  consecrated 
by  the  presbyters  of  lona,  had  witnessed  the  progress  of 
popery  at  the  court ;  at  first  humble  and  inoffensive,  and 
then  increasing  year  by  year  in  ambition  and  audacity.  He 


AND  AT  OSWY'S  COUKT.  45 

had  openly  opposed  the  pontiff's  agents,  and  his  frequent 
contests  had  confirmed  him  in  the  truth.*  He  was  dead, 
and  the  presbyters  of  the  Western  Isles,  seeing  more  clearly 
than  ever  the  wants  of  Northumbria,  had  sent  thither  Bishop 
Colman,  a  simple-minded  but  stout-hearted  man, — one  de- 
termined to  oppose  a  front  of  adamant  to  the  wiles  of  the 
seducers. 

Yet'Eanfeld,  Wilfrid,  and  Romanus  were  skilfully  dig- 
ging the  mine  that  was  to  destroy  the  apostolic  church  of 
Britain.  At  first  Wilfrid  prepared  his  attack  by  adroit  in- 
sinuations ;  and  next  declared  himself  openly  in  the  king's 
presence.  If  Oswy  withdrew  into  his  domestic  circle,  he 
there  found  the  bigoted  Eanfeld,  who  zealously  continued 
the  work  of  the  Roman  missionary.  No  opportunities  were 
neglected :  in  the  midst  of  the  diversions  of  the  court,  at 
table,  and  even  during  the  chase,  discussions  were  perpet- 
ually raised  on  the  controverted  doctrines.  Men's  minds 
became  excited  :  the  Romanists  already  assumed  the  air  of 
conquerors ;  and  the  Britons  often  withdrew  full  of  anxiety 
and  fear.  The  king,  placed  between  his  wife  .and  his  faith, 
and  wearied  by  these  disputes,  inclined 'first  to  one  side,  and 
then  to  the  other,  as  if  he  would  soon  fall  altogether. 

The  papacy  had  more  powerful  motives  than  ever  for 
coveting  Northumberland.  Oswy  had  not  only  usurped  the 
throne  of  Deira,  but  after  the  death  of  the  cruel  Penda,  who 
fell  in  battle  in  654,  he  had  conquered  his  states  with  the 
exception  of  a  portion  governed  by  his  son-in-law  Peada, 
the  son  of  Penda.  But  Peada  himself  having  fallen  in 
a  conspiracy  said  to  have  been  got  up  by  his  wife,  the 
daughter  of  Oswy,  the  latter  completed  the  conquest  of 
Mercia,  and  thus  united  the  greatest  part  of  England  under 
his  sceptre.  Kent  alone  at  that  time  acknowledged  the 
jurisdiction  of  Rome:  in  every  other  province,  free  ministers, 
protected  by  the  kings  of  Northumberland,  preached  the 
gospel.  This  wonderfully  simplified  the  question.  If  Rome 
gained  over  ^swy,  she  would  gain  England :  if  she  failed, 
she  must  sooner  or  later  leave  that  island  altogether. 

*  Apertum  vcritatis  adversarium  reddidit,  says  the  Romanist  Bede, 
lib.  r.  p.  135. 


46          CONQUESTS  AND  TROUBLES  OP  OSWY. 

This  was  not  all.  The  blood  of  Oswyn,  the  premature 
death  of  Aidan,  and  other  things  besides,  troubled  the  king's 
breast.  He  desired  to  appease  the  Deity  he  had  offended, 
and  not  knowing  that  Christ  is  the  door,  as  Holy  Scripture 
tells  us,  h,e  sought  among  men  for  a  doorkeeper  who  would 
open  to  him  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  He  was  far  from  be- 
ing the  last  of  those  kings  whom  the  necessity  of  expiat- 
ing their  crimes  impelled  towards  Romish  practices.  The 
crafty  Wilfrid,  keeping  alive  both  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the 
prince,  often  spoke  to  him  of  Rome,  and  of  the  grace  to  be 
found  there.  He  thought  that  the  fruit  was  ripe,  and  that 
now  he  had  only  to  shake  the  tree.  "  "We  must  have  a 
public  disputation,  in  which  the  question  may  be  settled 
once  for  all,"  said  the  queen  and  her  advisers  ;  "  but  Rome 
must  take  her  part  in  it  with  as  much  pomp  as  her  adver- 
saries. Let  us  oppose  bishop  to  bishop."  A  Saxon  bishop 
named  Agilbert,  a  friend  of  Wilfrid's,  who  had  won  the  affec- 
tion of  the  young  prince  Alfred,  was  invited  by  Eanfeld  to  the 
conference,  and  he  arrived  in  Northumberland  attended  by  a 
priest  named  Agathon.  Alas  !  poor  British  church,  the 
earthen  vessel  is  about  to  be  dashed  against  the  vase  of  iron. 
Britain  must  yield  before  the  invading  march  of  Rome. 

On  the  coast  of  Yorkshire,  at  the  farther  extremity  of  a 
quiet  bay,  was  situated  the  monastery  of  Strenseshalh,  or 
Whitby,  of  which  Hilda,  the  pious  daughter  of  King  Edwin, 
was  abbess.  She,  too,  was  desirous  of  seeing  a  termination 
of  the  violent  disputes  which  had  agitated  the  church  since 
Wilfrid's  return.  On  the  shores  of  the  North  Sea*  the  strug- 
gle was  to  be  decided  between  Britain  and  Rome,  between 
the  East  and  the  West,  or,  as  they  said  then,  between  Saint 
John  and  Saint  Peter.  It  was  not  a  mere  question  about 
Easter,  or  certain  rules  of  discipline,  but  of  the  great  doc- 
trine of  the  freedom  of  the  church  under  Jesus  Christ,  or  its 
enslavement  under  the  papacy.  Rome,  ever  domineering, 
desired  for  the  second  time  to  hold  England  in  its  grasp,  not 


*  This  conference  is  generally  known  as  the  Synodus  Pharensis  (from 
Strenceshalh,  sinus  Phari).  "  Hodie  Whitbie  dicitur  (White  cay),  et 
ost  villa  ia  Eboracensi  littore  satis  nota."  Wilkins,  Concil.  p.  37,  note. 


SYNODUS  PHAEENSIS — CEDDA.  47 

by  moans  of  the  sword,  but  by  her  dogmas.  With  her  usual 
cunning  she  concealed  her  enormous  pretensions  under  se- 
condary questions,  and  many  superficial  thinkers  were  de- 
ceived by  this  manoeuvre. 

The  meeting  took  place  in  the  convent  of  Whitby.  The 
king  and  his  son  entered  first ;  then,  on  the  one  side,  Column, 
with  the  bishops  and  elders  of  the  Britons ;  and  on  the  other 
Bishop  Agilbert,  Agathon,  Wilfrid,  Romanus,  a  deacon 
named  James,  and  several  other  priests  of  the  Latin  confes- 
sion. Last  of  all  came  Hilda  with  her  attendants,  among 
whom  was  an  English  bishop  named  Cedda,  one  of  the  most 
active  missionaries  of  the  age.*  He  had  at  first  preached 
the  Gospel  in  the  midland  districts,  whence  he  turned  his 
footsteps  towards  the  Anglo-Saxons  of  the  East,  and  after 
converting  a  great  number  of  these  pagans,  he  had  returned 
to  Finan,  and,  although  an  Englishman,  had  received  Epis- 
copal consecration  from  a  bishop  who  had  been  himself 
ordained  by  the  elders  of  lona.  Then  proceeding  westwards, 
the  indefatigable  evangelist  founded  churches,  and  appointed 
elders  and  deacons  wherever  he  went.-J-  By  birth  an  Eng- 
lishman, by  ordination  a  Scotchman,  everywhere  treated  with 
respect  and  consideration,  he  appeared  to  be  set  apart  as  me- 
diator in  this  solemn  conference.  His  intervention  could  not 
however,  retard  the  victory  of  Rome.  Alas !  the  primitive 
evangelism  had  gradually  given  way  to  an  ecclesiasticism, 
coarse  and  rude  in  one  place,  subtle  and  insinuating  in 
another.  Whenever  the  priests  were  called  upon  to  justify 
certain  doctrines  or  ceremonies,  instead  of  referring  solely  to 
the  word  of  God,  that  fountain  of  all  light,  they  maintained 
that  thus  St  James  did  at  Jerusalem,  St  Mark  at  Alexan- 
dria, St  John  at  Ephesus,  or  St  Peter  at  Rome.  They  gave 
the  name  of  apostolical  canons  to  rules  which  the  apostles 
had  never  known.  They  even  went  further  than  this :  at 
Rome  and  in  the  East,  ecclesiasticism  represented  itself  to  be 

"  Presby ten  Cedda  et  Adda  et  Berti  et  Duina,  quorum  ultimus  natione 
Scota«,  cacteri  fuere  Angli.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxi. 

f  Qui  accepto  gradu  episcopatus  et  majore  auctoritate  coeptum  opus 
explens,  fecit  per  loca  ecclesias,  presbyteros  et  diaconos  ordinavit.  Beda, 
lib.  iii.  cap.  sxii. 


48  THE  DISPUTATION, 

a  law  of  God,  and  from  a  state  of  weakness,  it  thus  became 
a  state  of  sin.  Some  marks  of  this  error  were  already  be- 
ginning to  appear  in  the  Christianity  of  the  Britons. 

King  Oswy  was  the  first  to  speak  :  "  As  servants  of  one 
and  the  same  God,  we  hope  all  to  enjoy  the  same  inheritance 
in  heaven ;  why  then  should  we  not  have  the  same  rule  of 
life  here  below  ?  Let  us  inquire  which  is  the  true  one,  and 

folloAV  it." "  Those  who  sent  me  hither  as  bishop,"  said 

Colman,  "  and  who  gave  me  the  rule  which  I  observe,  are 
the  beloved  of  God.  Let  us  bewaro  how  we  despise  their 
teaching,  for  it  is  the  teaching  of  Columba,  of  the  blessed 
evangelist  John,*  and  of  the  churches  over  which  that  apostle 
presided." 

"  As  for  us,"  boldly  rejoined  Wilfrid,  for  to.  him  as  to  the 
most  skilful  had  bishop  Agilbert  intrusted  the  defence  of 
their  cause,  "  our  custom  is  that  of  Rome,  where  the  holy 
apostles  Peter  and  Paul  taught ;  we  found  it  in  Italy  and 
Gaul,  nay,  it  is  spread  over  every  nation.  Shall  the  Picts 
and  Britons,  cast  on  these  two  islands,  on  the  very  confines 
of  the  ocean,  dare  to  contend  against  the  whole  world  ?  7 
However  holy  your  Columba  may  have  been,  will  you  prefer 
him  to  the  prince  of  the  apostles,  to  whom  Christ  said,  Thou 
art  Peter,  and  I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  tJie  kingdom  of 
heaven  ?  " 

Wilfrid  spoke  with  animation,  and  his  words  being  skil- 
fully adapted  to  his  audience,  began  to  make  them  waver. 
He  had  artfully  substituted  Columba  for  the  apostle  John, 
from  whom  the  British  church  claimed  descent,  and  op- 
posed to  St  Peter  a  plain  elder  of  lona.  Oswy,  whose  idol 
was  power,  could  not  hesitate  between  paltry  bishops  and 
that  pope  of  Rome  who  commanded  the  whole  world.  Al- 
ready imagining  he  saw  Peter  at  the  gates  of  paradise,  with 
the  keys  in  his  hand,  he  exclaimed  with  emotion:  "Is  it 
true,  Colman,  that  these  words  were  addressed  by  our  Lord 
to  Saint  Peter?" — "  It  is  true." — "  Can  you  prove  that  simi- 

*  Ipsum  est  quod  beatus  evangelista  Johannes,  discipulus  specialito? 
Domino  dilectus.  Bcda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxv. 

t  Pictos  dico  ac  Brittones,  cum  quibus  de  duabus  ultimis  oceani  insulis 
contra  totum  orbem  stulto  laborc  pugnant.  Ibid. 


TRIUMPH  OF  ROME.  -19 

lar  powers  were  given  to  your  Coluraba?" — The  bishop  re- 
plied, "  We  cannot ;"  but  he  might  have  told  the  king : 
"  John,  whose  doctrine  we  follow,  and  indeed  every  disciple, 
has  received  in  the  same  sense  as  St  Peter  the  power  to  re- 
mit sins,  to  bind  and  to  loose  on  earth  and  in  heaven."*  But 
the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  was  fading  away  in 
lona,  and  the  unsuspecting  Colman  had  not  observed  Wil- 
frid's stratagem  in  substituting  Columba  for  Saint  John. 
Upon  this  Oswy,  delighted  to  yield  to  the  continual  solicita- 
tions of  the  queen,  and,  above  all,  to  find  some  one  who 
would  admit  him  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  exclaimed, 
"  Peter  is  the  doorkeeper,  I  will  obey  him,  lest  when  I  ap- 
pear at  the  gate  there  should  be  no  one  to  open  it  to  me."-^ 
The  spectators,  carried  away  by  this  royal  confession,  has- 
tened to  give  in  their  submission  to  the  vicar  of  St  Peter. 

Thus  did  Rome  triumph  at  the  Whitby  conference.  Oswy 
forgot  that  the  Lord  had  said :  /  am  he  that  openeth,  and  no 
man  shutteth;  and  shutteth,  and  no  man  openeth.%  It  was 
by  ascribing  to  Peter  the  servant,  what  belongs  to  Jesus 
Christ  the  master,  that  the  papacy  reduced  Britain.  Oswy 
stretched  out  his  hands,  Rome  riveted  the  chains,  and  the 
liberty  which  Oswald  had  given  his  church  seemed  at  the 
last  gasp. 

Colman  saw  with  grief  and  consternation  Oswy  .and  his 
subjecfs  bending  their  knees  before  the  foreign  priests.  He 
did  not,  however,  despair  of  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the 
truth.  The  apostolic  faith  could  still  find  shelter  in  the  old 
sanctuaries  of  the  British  church  in  Scotland  and  Ireland. 
Immovable  in  the  doctrine  he  had  received,  and  resolute  to 
uphold  Christian  liberty,  Colman  withdrew  with  those  who 
would  not  bend  beneath  the  -yoke  of  Rome,  and  returned  to 
Scotland.  Thirty  Anglo-Saxons,  and  a  great  number  of 
Britons,  shook  off  the  dust  of  their  feet  against  the  tents  of 
the  Romish  priests.  The  hatred  of  popery  became  more  in- 
tense day  by  day  among  the  remainder  of  the  Britons.  De- 

»  John  xx.  23  ;  Matth.  XYiii.  18. 

t  Ne  forte  mo  adveniento  ad  fores  regni  ocelorum,  non  sit  qui  reaerct. 
Dcda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxv. 
J  John  x.  9  ;  Rev.  iii.  7. 

3*  C 


50  SORROW  OF  THE  BRITONS. 

termined  to  repel  its  erroneous  dogmas  and  its  illegitimate 
dominion,  they  maintained  their  communion  with  the  Eastern 
Church,  which  was  more  ancient  than  that  of  Rome.  They 
shuddered  as  they  saw  the  red  dragon  of  the  Celts  gradually 
retiring  towards  the  western  sea  from  before  the  white  dragofl 
of  the  Saxons.  They  ascribed  their  misfortunes  to  a  horrible 
conspiracy  planned  by  the  iniquitous  ambition  of  the  foreign 
monks,  and  the  bards  in  their  chants  cursed  the  negligent 
ministers  who  defended  not  the  flock  of  the  Lord  against  the 
wolves  of  Rome.*  But  vain  were  their  lamentations ! 

The  Romish  priests,  aided  by  the  queen,  lost  no  time. 
Wilfrid,  whom  Oswy  desired  to  reward  for  his  triumph,  was 
named  bishop  of  Northumberland,  and  he  immediately 
visited  Paris  to  receive  episcopal  consecration  in  due  form. 
He  soon  returned,  and  proceeded  with  singular  activity  to 
establish  the  Romish  doctrine  in  all  the  churches.f  Bishop 
of  a  diocese  extending  from  Edinburgh  to  Northampton,  en- 
riched with  the  goods  which  had  belonged  to  divers  monas- 
teries, surrounded  by  a  numerous  train,  served  upon  gold 
and  silver  plate,  Wilfrid  congratulated  himself  on  having 
espoused  the  cause  of  the  papacy ;  he  offended  every  one  who 
approached  him  by  his  insolence,  and  taught  England  how 
wide  was  the  difference  between  the  humble  ministers  of 
lona  and  a  Romish  priest.  At  the  same  time  Oswv^  com- 
ing to  an  understanding  with  the  king  of  Kent,  sent  another 
priest  named  Wighard  to  Rome  to  learn  the  pope's  inten- 
tions respecting  the  church  in  England,  and  to  receive  con- 
secration as  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  There  was  no  epis- 
copal ordination  in  England  worthy  of  a  priest !  In  the 
meanwhile  Oswy,  with  all  the  zeal  of  a  new  convert,  ceased 
not  to  repeat  that  "  the  Roman  Church  was  the  catholic 
and  apostolic  church,"  and  thought  night  and  day  on  the 
means  of  converting  his  subjects,  hoping  thus  (says  a  pope) 
to  redeem  his  own  soul4 

The  arrival  of  this  news  at  Rome  created  a  great  sensa- 

*  Horse  Britannicse,  b.  ii.  p.  277. 

t  Ipse  perplura  catholicse  observations  moderamina  ecclesiis  Anglo- 
rum  sua  doctrina  contulit.  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxviii. 

J  Omnes  subjectos  suos  meditatur  die  ac  nocte  ad  fidem  catholicam 
atquo  apostolicam  pro  SUES  anima)  redemptione  coiiyerti.  Ibid.  cap.  xxix, 


EXULTATION  OF  THE  POPE.  '  51 

lion.  Vitalian,  who  then  filled  the  episcopal  chair,  and  was  as 
insolent  to  his  bishops  as  he  was  fawning  and  servile  to  the 
emperor,  exclaimed  with  transport:  "Who  would  not  be 
overjoyed!*  a  king  converted  to  the  true  apostolic  faith,  a 
people  that  believes  at  last  in  Christ  the  Almighty  God!" 
For  many  long  years  this  people  had  believed  in  Christ,  but 
they  were  now  beginning  to  believe  in  the  pope,  and  the 
pope  will  soon  make  them  forget  Jesus  the  Saviour.  Vita- 
lian wrote  to  Oswy,  and  sent  him — not  copies  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  (which  were  already  becoming  scarce  at  Rome), 
but — relics  of  the  Saints  Peter,  John,  Lawrence,  Gregory, 
and  Pancratius ;  and  being  in  an  especial  manner  desirous 
of  rewarding  Queen  Eanfeld,  to  whom  with  Wilfrid  belonged 
the  glory  of  this  work,  he  offered  her  a  cross,  made,  as  he 
assured  Tier,  out  of  the  chains  of  St  Peter  and  St  Paul.-f- 
"  Delay  not,"  said  the  pope  in  conclusion,  "  to  reduce  all 
your  island  under  Jesus  Christ," — or  in  other  words,  under 
the  bishop  of  Rome. 

The  essential  thing,  however,  was  to  send  an  archbishop 
from  Rome  to  Britain ;  but  Wighard  was  dead,  and  no  one 
seemed  willing  to  undertake  so  long  a  journey.:}: 

There  was  not  much  zeal  in  the  city  of  the  pontiffs :  and 
the  pope  was  compelled  to  look  out  for  a  stranger.  There 
happened  at  that  time  to  be  in  Rome  a  man  of  great  reputa- 
tion for  learning,  who  had  come  from  the  east,  and  adopted 
the  rites  and  doctrines  of  the  Latins  in  exchange  for  the 
knowledge  he  had  brought  them.  He  was  pointed  out  to 
Vitalian  as  well  qualified  to  be  the  metropolitan  of  England. 
Theodore,  for  such  was  his  name,  belonging  by  birth  to  the 
churches  of  Asia  Minor,  would  be  listened  to  by  the  Britons 
in  preference  to  any  other,  when  he  solicited  them  to  aban- 
don their  oriental  customs.  The  Roman  pontiff,  however, 
fearful  perhaps  that  he  might  yet  entertain  some  leaven  of 
his  former  Greek  doctrines,  gave  him  as  companion,  or  rather 
as  overseer,  a  zealous  African  monk  named  Adrian. § 

*  Quis  enim  audiens  hsec  suavia  non  Iretetur  1  Beda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  zzix. 

t  Conjugi,  no-trie  spiritual!  flliae,  crucem Ibid. 

£  Minime  voluimus  nunc  reperire  pro  longinquitate  itinoris.     Ibid. 
§  Ut  diligenter  attenderet,  nc  quid  ille  contrarium  veritati,  fidei.  Gras- 
corum  more,  in  ecclesiam  cui  praessetintroduceret.    Ibid.  lib.  IT.  cap.  i. 


52  CEDDA  KE-ORDAINED. 

Theodore  began  the  great  crusade  against  British  Chris- 
tianity ;  and,  endeavouring  to  show  the  sincerity  of  his  con- 
version by  his  zeal,  he  traversed  all  England  in  company 
with  Adrian,*  everywhere  imposing  on  the  people  that  eccle- 
siastical supremacy  to  which  Rome  is  indebted  for  her  poli- 
tical supremacy.  The  superiority  of  character  which  distin- 
guished Saint  Peter,  Theodore  transformed  into  a  superiority 
of  office.  For  the  jurisdiction  of  Christ  and  his  word,  he 
substituted  that  of  the  bishop  of  Rome  and  of  his  decrees. 
He  insisted  on  the  necessity  of  ordination  by  bishops  who, 
in  an  unbroken  chain,  could  trace  back  their  authority  to 
the  apostles  themselves.  The  British  still  maintained  the 
validity  of  their  consecration ;  but  the  number  was  small  of 
those  who  understood  that  pretended  successors  of  the  apos- 
tles, who  sometimes  carry  Satan  in  their  hearts,"  are  not 
true  ministers  of  Christ ;  that  the  one  thing  needful  for  the 
church  is,  that  the  apostles  themselves  (and  not  their  suc- 
cessors only)  should  dwell  in  its  bosom  by  their  word,  by 
their  teaching,  and  by  the  Divine  Comforter  who  shall  be 
with  it  for  ever  and  ever. 

The  grand  defection  now  began  :  the  best  were  sometimes 
the  first  to  yield.  When  Theodore  met  Cedda,  who  had 
been  consecrated  by  a  bishop  who  had  himself  received  ordi- 
nation from  the  elders  of  lona,  he  said  to  him  :  "  You  have 
not  been  regularly  ordained."  Cedda,  instead  of  standing  up 
boldly  for  the  truth,  gave  way  to  a  carnal  modesty,  and  re- 
plied :  "  I  never  thought  myself  worthy  of  the  episcopate, 
and  am  ready  to  lay  it  down." — "  No,"  said  Theodore,  "  you 
shall  remain  a  bishop,  but  I  will  consecrate  you  anew  ac- 
cording to  the  catholic  ritual."-]-  The  British  minister  sub- 
mitted. Rome,  triumphant,  felt  herself  strong  enough  to 
deny  the  imposition  of  hands  of  the  elders  of  lona,  which 
she  had  hitherto  recognised.  The  most  steadfast  believers 
took  refuge  in  Scotland. 

*  Peragrata  insula  tota,  rectum  vivendi  ordinem  disscminabat.  Beda, 
lib.  iv.  cap.  ii. 

+  Cum  Ceadda  Episcopum  argueret  non  fuisse  rite  consecratum,  ipse 
(Theodorus)  ordinatiouem  ejus  denuo  catholica  ratione  consummavit. 
Ibid. 


DISCORD  IN  THE  CHURCH.  53 

In  this  manner  a  church  in  some  respects  deficient,  but 
still  a  church  in  which  the  religious  element  held  the  .fore- 
most place,  was  succeeded  by  another  in  which  the  clerical 
element  predominated.  This  was  soon  apparent :  questions 
of  authority  and  precedence,  hitherto  unknown  among  the 
British  Christians,  were  now  of  daily  occurrence.  Wilfrid, 
who  had  fixed  his  residence  at  York,  thought  that  no  one 
deserved  better  than  he  to  be  primate  of  all  England ;  and 
Theodore  on  his  part  Avas  irritated  at  the  haughty  tone  as- 
sumed by  this  bishop.  During  the  life  of  Oswy,  peace  was 
maintained,  for  Wilfrid  was  his  favourite ;  but  erelong  that 
prince  fell  ill ;  and,  terrified  by  the  near  approach  of  death, 
he  vowed  that  if  he  recovered  he  would  make  a  pilgrimage 
to  Rome  and  there  end  his  days.*  "  If  you  will  be  my  guide 
to  the  city  of  the  apostles,"  he  said  to  Wilfrid,  "  I  will  give 
you  a  large  sum  of  money."  But  his  vow  was  of  no  avail ; 
Oswy  died  in  the  spring  of  the  year  670  A.  D. 

The  Wit&n  set  aside  prince  Alfred,  and  raised  his  youngest 
brother  Egfrid  to  the  throne.  The  new  monarch,  who  had 
often  been  offended  by  Wilfrid's  insolence,  denounced  this 
haughty  prelate  to  the  archbishop.  Nothing  could  be  more 
agreeable  to  Theodore.  He  assembled  a  council  at  Hert- 
ford, before  which  the  chief  of  his  converts  were  first  sum- 
moned, and  presenting  to  them,  not  the  holy  scripture  but 
the  canons  of  the  Romish  church,j  he  received  their  solemn 
oaths  :  such  was  the  religion  then  taught  in  England.  But 
this  was  not  all.  "  The  diocese  of  our  brother  Wilfrid  is  so 
extensive,"  said  the  primate,  "  that  there  is  room  in  it  for 
four  bishops."  They  were  appointed  accordingly.  Wilfrid 
indignantly  appealed  from  the  primate  and  the  king  to  the 

pope.  "Who  converted  England,  who,  if  not  I? and 

it  is  thus  I  am  rewarded!" Not  allowing  himself  to 

be  checked  by  the  difficulties  of  the  journey,  he  set  out  for 
Rome  attended  by  a  few  monks,  and  Pope  Agathon  assem- 
bling a  council  (679),  the  Englishman  presented  his  com- 
plaint, and  the  pontiff  declared  the  destitution  to  be  illegal. 

*  Ut  si  ab  infirmitate  salraretur,  etiam  Romam  venire,  ibique  ad  Iocs 
sancta  vitam  finire.    Bcda,  lib.  iv.  cap.  ii. 
t  Quibus  statim  protnli  eundem  Hbrum  canomim.    Ibid.  cap.  T. 


54  WILFRID'S  DISGRACE  AND  TREACHERY. 

Wilfrid  immediately  returned  to  England,  and  haughtily 
presented  the  pope's  decree  to  the  king.  But  Egfrid,  who 
was  not  of  a  disposition  to  tolerate  these  transalpine  man- 
ners, far  from  restoring  the  see,  cast  the  prelate  into  prison, 
and  did  not  release  him  until  the  end  of  the  year,  and  then 
only  on  condition  that  he  would  immediately  quit  North- 
umbria. 

Wilfrid — for  we  must  follow  even  to  the  end  of  his  life 
that  remarkable  man,  who  exercised  so  great  an  influence 
over  the  destinies  of  the  English  church — Wilfrid  was  de- 
termined to  be  a  bishop  at  any  cost.  The  kingdom  of 
Sussex  was  still  pagan  ;  and  the  deposed  prelate,  whose  in- 
defatigable activity  we  cannot  but  acknowledge,  formed  the 
resolution  of  winning  a  bishopric,  as  other  men  plan  the 
conquest  of  a  kingdom.  He  arrived  in  Sussex  during  a 
period  of  famine,  and  having  brought  with  him  a  number  of 
nets,  he  taught  the  people  the  art  of  fishing,  and  thus  gained 
their  affections.  Their  king  Edilwalch  had  been  baptized ; 
his  subjects  now  followed  his  example,  and  Wilfrid  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  church.  But  he  soon  manifested 
the  disposition  by  which  he  was  animated :  he  furnished 
supplies  of  men  and  money  to  Geadwalla,  king  of  Wessex, 
and  this  cruel  chieftain  made  a  fierce  inroad  into  Sussex, 
laying  it  waste,  and  putting  to  death  Edilwalch,  the  pre- 
late's benefactor.  The  -career  of  the  turbulent  bishop  was 
not  ended.  King  Egfrid  died,  and  was  succeeded  by  his 
brother  Alfred,  whom  Wilfrid  had  brought  up,  a  prince  fond 
of  learning  and  religion,  and  emulous  of  the  glory  of  his 
uncle  Oswald.  The  ambitious  Wilfrid  hastened  to  claim  his 
see  of  York,  by  acquiescing  in  the  partition  ;  it  was  restored 
to  him,  and  he  forthwith  began  to  plunder  others  to  enrich 
himself.  A  council  begged  him  to  submit  to  the  decrees  of 
the  church  of  England ;  he  refused,  and  having  lost  the 
esteem  of  the  king,  his  former  pupil,  he  undertook,  notwith- 
standing his  advanced  years,  a  third  journey  to  Rome. 
Knowing  how  popes  are  won,  he  threw  himself  at  the 
pontiffs  feet,  exclaiming  that  "  the  suppliant  bishop  Wilfrid, 
the  humble  slave  of  the  servant  of  God,  implored  the  favour 
of  our  most  blessed  lord,  the  pope  universal."  The  bishop 


HIS  END SCOTLAND  ATTACKED — ADAMNAN.  55 

could  not  restore  his  creature  to  his  see,  and  the  short  re- 
mainder of  Wilfrid's  life  was  spent  in  the  midst  of  the  richea 
his  cupidity  had  so  unworthily  accumulated. 

Yet  he  had  accomplished  the  task  of  his  life  :  all  England 
was  subservient  to  the  papacy.  The  names  of  Oswy  and  of 
Wilfrid  should  be  inscribed  in  letters  of  mourning  in  the 
annals  of  Great  Britain.  Posterity  has  erred  in  permitting 
them  to  sink  into  oblivion ;  for  they  were  two  of  the  most 
influential  and  energetic  men  that  ever  flourished  in  Eng- 
land. Still  this  very  forgetfulness  is  not  wanting  in  gene- 
rosity. The  grave  in  which  the  liberty  of  the  church  lay 
buried  for  nine  centuries  is  the  only  monument — a  mourn- 
ful one  indeed — that  should  perpetuate  their  memory. 

But  Scotland  was  still  free,  and  to  secure  the  definitive 
triumph  of  Rome,  it  was  necessary  to  invade  that  virgin  soil, 
over  which  the  standard  of  the  faith  had  floated  for  so  many 
years. 

Adamnan  was  then  at  the  head  of  the  church  of  lona,  the 
first  elder  of  that  religious  house.  He  was  virtuous  and 
learned,  but  weak  and  somewhat  vain,  and  his  religion  had 
little  spirituality.  To  gain  him  was  in  the  eyes  of  Rome  to 
gain  Scotland.  A  singular  circumstance  favoured  the  plans 
of  those  who  desired  to  draw  him  into  the  papal  communion. 
One  day  during  a  violent  tempest,  a  ship  coming  from  the 
Holy  Land,  and  on  board  of  which  was  a  Gaulish  bishop 
named  Arculf,  was  wrecked  in  the  neighbourhood  of  lona.* 
Arculf  eagerly  sought  an  asylum  among  the  pious  inhabit- 
ants of  that  island.  Adamnan  never  grew  tired  of  hearing 
the  stranger's  descriptions  of  Bethlehem,  Jerusalem,  and 
Golgotha,  of  the  sun-burnt  plains  over  which  our  Lord  had 
wandered,  and  the  cleft  stone  which  still  lay  before  the  door 
of  the  sepulchre.-}-  The  elder  of  lona,  who  prided  himself 
on  his  learning,  noted  down  Arculfs  conversation,  and  from 
it  composed  a  description  of  the  Holy  Land.  As  soon  as  his 
book  was  completed,  the  desire  of  making  these  wondrous 

•  Vi  tempestatis  in  occidentalia  Britannia;  littora  delatus  est.  Beda, 
lib.  v.  cap.  xvi. 

f  Lapis  qui  ad  ostium  monumenti  positus  erat,  fiesus  cst.  Ibid,  cap 
rvii. 


56  EESISTANCE  OF  IONA. 

things  more  widely  known,  combined  with  a  little  va>  Jty, 
and  perhaps  othet  motives,  urged  him  to  visit  the  court  of 
Northumberland,  where  he  presented  his  work  to  the  pious 
King  Alfred,*  who,  being  fond  of  learning  and  of  the  Chri<?~ 
tian  traditions,  caused  a  number  of  copies  of  it  to  be  made. 

Nor  was  this  all :  the  Romish  clergy  perceived  the  advan- 
tage they  might  derive  from  this  imprudent  journey.  They 
crowded  round  the  elder ;  they  showed  him  all  the  pomp  of 
their  worship,  and  said  to  him  :  "  Will  you  and  your  friends, 
who  live  at  the  very  extremity  of  the  world,  set  yourselves 
in  opposition  to  the  observances  of  the  universal  church  ?"•{• 
The  nobles  of  the  court  flattered  the  author's  self-love,  and 
invited  him  to  their  festivities,  while  the  king  loaded  him 
with  presents.  The  free  presbyter  of  Britain  became  a  priest 
of  Rome,  and  Adamnan  returned  to  lona  to  betray  his 
church  to  his  new  masters.  But  it  was  all  to  no  purpose : 
lona  would  not  give  way.f  He  then  went  to  hide  his  shame 
in  Ireland,  where,  having  brought  a  few  individuals  to  the- 
Romish  uniformity,  he  took  courage  and  revisited  Scotland. 
But  that  country,  still  inflexible,  repelled  him  with  indigna- 
tion^ 

When  Rome  found  herself  unable  to  conquer  by  the  priest, 
she  had  recourse  to  the  prince,  and  her  eyes  were  turned  to 
Naitam,  king  of  the  Picts.  "  How  much  more  glorious  it 
would  be  for  you,"  urged  the  Latin  priests,  "  to  belong  to  the 
powerful  church  of  the  universal  pontiff  of  Rome,  than  to  a 
congregation  superintended  by  miserable  elders  !  The  Ro- 
mish church  is  a  monarchy,  and  ought  to  be  the  church  of 
every  monarch.  The  Roman  ceremonial  accords  with  the 
pomp  of  royalty,  and  its  temples  are  palaces."  The  prince 
was  convinced  by  the  last  argument.  He  despatched  mes- 
sengers to  Ceolfrid,  the  abbot  of  an  English  convent,  begging 

*  Porrexit  autem  librum  tune  Adamnanus  Alfrido  regi.  Beda,  lib. 
v.  cap.  xvi. 

•j-  Ne  contra  universalem  ecclesise  morem,  cum  suis  paucissimis  et  in 
extreme  mundi  angulo  positis,  vivere  praesumeret.  Ibid. 

J  Curavit  sues  ad  eum  veritatis  calcem  producere,  nee  voluit.    Ibid. 

§  Nee  tamen  perficere  quod  conabatur  posset.  Ibid.  The  conversions 
of  which  Abbot  Ceolfrid  speaks  in  chap.  xxii.  are  probably  those  effected 
in  Ireland,  the  word  Scotia  being  at  this  period  frequently  applied  to  that 
country. 


NAITAM  CONVERTED  TO  ROMANISM.  57 

him  to  send  him  architects  capable  of  building  a  church  after 
the  Roman  pattern* — of  stone  and^iot  of  wood.  Architects, 
majestic  porches,  lofty  columns,  vaulted  roofs,  gilded  altars, 
have  often  proved  the  most  influential  of  Rome's  mission- 
aries. The  builder's  art.  though  in  its  earliest  and  simplest 
day?,  was  more  powerful  than  the  Bible.  Naitam,  who,  by 
submitting  to  the  pope,  thought  himself  the  equal  of  Clovis 
and  Clotaire,  assembled  the  nobles  of  his  court  and  the  pas- 
tors of  his  church,  and  thus  addressed  them  :  "  I  recommend 
all  the  clergy  of  my  kingdom  to  receive  the  tonsure  of  Saint 
Peter."  f  Then  without  delay  (as  Bede  informs  us)  this 
important  revolution  was  accomplished  by  royal  authority,  f 
He  sent  agents  and  letters  into  every  province,  and  caused 
all  the  ministers  and  monks  to  receive  the  circular  tonsure 
according  to  the  Roman  fashion.  §  It  was  the  mark  that 
popery  stamped,  not  on  the  forehead,  but  on  the  crown.  A 
royal  proclamation  and  a  few  clips  of  the  scissors  placed  the 
Scotch,  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  beneath  the  crook  of  the  shep- 
herd of  the  Tiber. 

lona  still  held  out.  The  orders  of  the  Pictish  king, 
the  example  of  his  subjects,  the  sight  of  that  Italian  power 
which  was  devouring  the  earth,  had  shaken  some  few  minds ; 
but  the  church  still  resisted  the  innovation.  lona  was  the 
last  citadel  of  liberty  in  the  western  world,  and  popery  was 
filled  with  anger  at  that  miserable  band  which  in  its  remote 
corner  refused  to  bend  before  it.  Human  means  appeared 
insufficient  to  conquer  this  rock :  something  more  was  needed, 
visions  and  miracles  for  example;  and  these  Rome  always 
finds  when  she  wants  them.  One  day  towards  the  end  of 
the  seventh  century,  an  English  monk,  named  Egbert, 
arriving  from  Ireland,  appeared  before  the  elders  of  lona,  who 
received  him  with  their  accustomed  hospitality.  He  was  a 
man  in  whom  enthusiastic  devotion  was  combined  with  great 

*  Architectos  sibi  mitti  pctiit  qui  juxta  morcm  Romanorum  ecclesiam 
laccrent.  Beda,  lib.  v.  cap.  xxii. 

f  Et  bane  accipere  tonsuram,  omnes  qui  in  meo  regno  sunt  clericos 
decerno.  Ibid. 

J  Nee  mora,  qua)  dixerat  regia  auctoritate  perfecit.    Ibid. 

§  Per  universas  Pictorum  provinciaa tondebantur  omnes  in  coronam 

ounistri  altaris  ac  monacal.  Ibid. 

c  2 


58  EGBERT  THE  MONK  AT  IONA. 

gentleness  of  heart,  and  he  soon  won  upon  the  minds  of  these 
simple  believers.  He  snpke  to  them  of  an  external  unity, 
urging  that  a  universality  manifested  under  different  forms 
was  unsuited  to  the  church  of  Christ.  He  advocated  the 
special  form  of  Rome,  and  for  the  truly  catholic  element 
which  the  Christians  of  lona  had  thus  far  possessed,  sub- 
stituted a  sectarian  element.  He  attacked  the  traditions  of 
the  British  church,*  and  lavishly  distributing  the  rich  pre- 
sents confided  to  him  by  the  lords  of  Ireland  and  of  England,f 
he  soon  had  reason  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the  saying 
of  the  wise  man  :  A  gift  is  as  a  precious  stone  in  the  eyes  of 
him  that  hath  it  :  whithersoever  it  turneth  it  prospereth. 

Some  pious  souls,  however,  still  Tield  out  in  lona.  The 
enthusiast  Egbert — for  such  he  appears  to  have  been  rather 
than  an  impostor — had  recourse  to  other  means.  He  repre- 
sented himself  to  be  a  messenger  from  heaven :  the  saints 
themselves,  said  he,  have  commissioned  me  to  convert  lona ; 
and  then  he  told  the  following  history  to  the  elders  who 
stood  round  him.  "  About  thirty  years  ago,  I  entered  the 
monastery  of  Rathmelfig  in  Ireland,  when  a  terrible  pesti- 
lence fell  upon  it,  and  of  all  the  brethren  the  monk  Edelhun 
and  myself  were  left  alone.  Attacked  by  the  plague,  and 
fearing  my  last  hour  was  come,  I  rose  from  my  bed  and 
crept  into  the  chapel.J  There  my  whole  body  trembled  at 
the  recollection  of  my  sins,  and  my  face  was  bathed  with 
tears.  '  0  God,'  I  exclaimed,  '  suffer  me  not  to  die  until  I 
have  redeemed  my  debt  to  thee  by  an  abundance  of  good 
works."  §  I  returned  staggering  to  the  infirmary,  got  into 
bed,  and  fell  asleep.  When  I  awoke,  I  saw  Edelhun  with 
his  eyes  fixed  on  mine.  '  Brother  Egbert,'  said  he,  '  it  has 
been  revealed  to  me  in  a  vision  that  thou  shalt  receive  what 

*  Sedulis  cxhortationibus  inyeteratam  illam  traditionem  parentum 
eorum.  Beda,  lib.  v.  cap.  xxiii. 

f  Pietate  largiendi  de  his  quse  a  divitibus  acceperat,  multum  profuit. 
Ibid.  cap.  xxvii. 

J  Cum  sc  existimaret  esse  moriturum,  egressus  est  tempore  matutino 
de  cubiculo,  et  residens  solus Ibid.  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxvii. 

§  Precabatur  ne  adhuc  mori  deberet  priusquam  vel  prseteritas  negli- 
gentias  aperfectim  ex  tempore  castigaret,  vel  in  bonis  se  operibus  abundan- 
tius  exerceret.  Ibid. 


MONKISH  VISIONS.  59 

thou  hast  asked.'  On  the  following  night  Edelhun  died  and 
I  recovered. 

"  Many  years  passed  away :  my  repentance  and  my  vigils 
did  lot  satisfy  me,  and  wishing  to  pay  my  debt,  I  resolved 
to  go  with  a  company  of  monks  and  preach  the  blessings  of 
the  gospel  to  the  heathens  of  Germany.  But  during  the 
night  a  blessed  saint  from  heaven  appeared  to  one  of  the 
brethren  and  said :  '  Tell  Egbert  that  he  must  go  to  the 
monasteries  of  Columba,  for  their  ploughs  do  not  plough 
straight,  and  he  must  put  them  into  the  right  furrow.'*  I 
forbade  this  brother  to  speak  of  his  vision,  and  went  on 
board  a  ship  bound  for  Germany.  We  were  waiting  for  a 
favourable  wind,  when,  of  a  sudden,  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  a  frightful  tempest  burst  upon  the  vessel,  and  drove  us 
on  the  shoals.  '  For  my  sake  this  tempest  is  upon  us/  I 
exclaimed  in  terror ;  '  God  speaks  to  me  as  He  did  to 
Jonah  ;'  and  I  ran  to  take  refuge  in  my  cell.  At  last  I  de- 
termined to  obey  the  command  which  the  holy  man  had 
brought  me.  I  left  Ireland,  and  came  among  you,  in  order 
to  pay  my  debt  by  converting  you.  And  now,"  continued 
Egbert,  "  make  answer  to  the  voice  of  heaven,  and  submit  to 
Rome." 

A  ship  thrown  on  shore  by  a  storm  was  a  frequent  occur- 
rence on  those  coasts,  and  the  dream  of  a  monk,  absorbed  in 
the  plans  of  his  brother,  was  nothing  very  unnatural.  But 
in  those  times  of  darkness,  everything  appeared  miraculous  ; 
phantoms  and  apparitions  had  more  weight  than  the  word  of 
God.  Instead  of  detecting  the  emptiness  of  these  visions  by 
the  falseness  of  the  religion  they  were  brought  to  support, 
the  elders  of  lona  listened  seriously  to  Egbert's  narrative. 
The  primitive  faith  planted  on  the  rock  of  Icolmkill  was  now 
like  a  pine-tree  tossed  by  the  winds :  but  one  gust,  and  it 
would  be  uprooted  and  blown  into  the  sea.  Egbert,  per- 
ceiving the  elders  to  be  shaken,  redoubled  his  prayers,  and 
even  had  recourse  to  threats.  "AH  the  west,"  said  he, 
"  bends  the  knee  to  Rome :  alone  against  all,  what  can  you 
do?"  The  Scotch  still  resisted:  obscure  and  unknown,  the 

*  Qnia  aratra  eorum  non  recto  incedunt ;  oportet  autem  cum  ad  no- 
turn  luce  tramitem  rovocare.  Bcda,  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxvii. 


60  FALL  OF  IOXA. 

last  British  Christians  contended  in  behalf  of  expiring  liberty. 
At  length  bewildered — they  stumbled  and  fell.  The  scissors 
were  brought ;  they  received  the  Latin  tonsure* — they  were 
the  pope's.  f 

Thus  fell  Scotland.  Yet  there  still  remained  some  sparks 
of  grace,  and  the  mountains  of  Caledonia  long  concealed  the 
hidden  fire  which  after  many  ages  burst  forth  with  such 
power  and  might.  Here  and  there  a  few  independent  spirits 
were  to  be  found  who  testified  against  the  tyranny  of  Rome. 
In  the  time  of  Bede  they  might  be  seen  "  halting  in  their 
paths,"  (to  use  the  words  of  the  Romish  historian,)  refusing 
to  join  in  the  holidays  of  the  pontifical  adherents,  and  push- 
ing away  the  hands  that  were  eager  to  shave  their  crowns.-J- 
But  the  leaders  of  the  state  and  of  the  church  had  laid  down 
their  arms.  •  The  contest  was  over,  after  lasting  more  than 
a  century.  British  Christianity  had  in  some  degree  prepared 
its  own  fall,  by  substituting  too  often  the  form  for  the  faith. 
The  foreign  superstition  took  advantage  of  this  weakness, 
and  triumphed  in  these  islands  by  means  of  royal  decrees, 
church  ornaments,  monkish  phantoms,  and  conventual  ap- 
paritions. At  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  century  the  Bri- 
tish Church  became  the  serf  of  Rome;  but  an  internal 
struggle  was  commencing,  which  did  not  cease  until  the 
period  of  the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Clement — Struggle  between  a  Scotchman  and  an  Englishman — Word  of 
God  only — Clement's  Success — His  Condemnation — Virgil  and  the 
Antipodes— John  Scotus  and  Philosophical  Religion— Alfred  and  the 
Bible— Darkness  and  Popery — William  the  Conqueror — Wulston  at 
Edward's  Tomb -^Struggle  between  William  and  Hildebrand— The  Pope 
y  ields — Csesaropapia. 

THE  independent  Christians  of  Scotland,  who  subordinated 
the  authority  of  man  to  that  of  God,  were  filled  with  sorrow 

*  Ad  ritum  tonsurse  canonicum  sub  figura  coronse  perpetuae.  Beda, 
lib.  v.  cap.  xxiii. 

•f-  Sicut  e  contra  Brittones,  inveterati  et  claudicantes  a  semitis  suis,  et 
oapita  ferre  sine  corona  prsetendunt.  Ibid. 


C&EMENT  AND  BOXIFACE.  61 

as  they  beheld  these  backslidings  :  and  it  was  this  no  doubt 
which  induced  many  to  leave  their  homes  and  fight  in  the 
very  heart  of  Europe  in  behalf  of  that  Christian  liberty  which 
had  just  expired  among  themselves. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  eighth  century  a  great  idea 
took  possession  of  a  pious  doctor  of  the  Scottish  church 
named  Clement.*  The  ivork  of  God  is  the  very  essence  of 
Christianity,  thought  he,  and  this  work  must  be  defended 
against  all  the  encroachments  of  man.  To  human  tradition- 
alism he  opposed  the  sole  authority  of  the  word  of  God ;  to 
clerical  materialism,  a  church  which  is  the  assembly  of  the 
saints ;  and  to  Pelagianisra,  the  sovereignty  of  grace.  He 
was  a  man  of  decided  character  and  firm  faith,  but  without 
fanaticism ;  his  heart  was  open  to  the  holiest  emotions  of 
our  nature;  he  was  a  husband  and  a  father.  He  quitted 
Scotland  and  travelled  among  the  Franks,  everywhere  scat- 
tering the  seeds  of  the  faith.  It  happened  unfortunately 
that  a  man  of  kindred  energy,  Winifrid  or  Boniface  of  Wes- 
sex,  was  planting  the  pontifical  Christianity  in  the  same 
regions.  This  great  missionary,  who  possessed  in  an  essen- 
tial degree  the  faculty  of  organization,  aimed  at  external 
unity  above  all  things,  and  when  he  had  taken  the  oath  of 
fidelity  to  Gregory  II.,  he  had  received  from  that  pope  a  col- 
lection of  the  Roman  laws.  Boniface,  henceforth  a  docile 
disciple  or  rather  a  fanatical  champion  of  Rome,  supported 
on  the  one  hand  by  the  pontiff,  and  on  the  other  by  Charley 
Martel,  ha€  preached  to  the  people  of  Germany,  among  some 
undoubted  Christian  truths, — the  doctrine  of  tithes  and  of 
papal  supremacy.  The  Englishman  and  the  Scotchman, 
representatives  of  two  great  systems,  were  about  to  engage 
in  deadly  combat  in  the  heart  of  Europe — in  a  combat  whose 
consequences  might  be  incalculable. 

Alarmed  at  the  progress  made  by  Clement's  evangelical 
doctrines,  Boniface,  archbishop  of  the  German  churches,  un- 
dertook to  oppose  them.  At  first  he  confronted  the  Scotch- 
man with  the  laws  of  the  Roman  church ;  but  the  latter  de- 
nied the  authority  of  these  ecclesiastical  canons,  and  refuted 

*  Alter  qui  dicitur  Clemens,  genere  Scotus  est.    Bonifacii  epistola  ad 
Papara,  Labbei  concilia  ad  ann.  745. 


62  THE  WORD  OF  GOD  ALONE — CLEMENT'S  SUCCESS. 

their  contents.*  Boniface  then  put  forward  the  decisions  of 
various  councils ;  but  Clement  replied  that  if  the  decisions  of 
the  councils  are  contrary  to  holy  Scripture,  they  have  no 
authority  over  Christians,  f  The  archbishop,  astonished  at 
such  audacity,  next  had  recourse  to  the  writings  of  the  most 
illustrious  fathers  of  the  Latin  church,  quoting  Jerome, 
Augustine,  and  Gregory ;  but  the  Scotchman  told  him,  that 
instead  of  submitting  to  the  word  of  men,  he  would  obey  the 
word  of  God  alone.  ^  Boniface  with  indignation  now  intro- 
duced the  Catholic  church,  which,  by  its  priests  and  bishops 
all  united  to  the  pope,  forms  an  invincible  unity ;  but  to  his 
great  surprise  his  opponent  maintained  that  there  only, 
where  the  Holy  Spirit  dwells,  can  be  found  the  spouse  of 
Jesus  Christ.  §  Vainly  did  the  archbishop  express  his  hor- 
ror ;  Clement  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  from  his  great  idea, 
either  by  the  clamours  of  the  followers  of  Rome,  or  by  the 
imprudent  attacks  made  on  the  papacy  by  other  Christian 
ministers. 

Rome  had,  indeed,  other  adversaries.  A  Gallic  bishop 
named  Adalbert,  with  whom  Boniface  affected  to  associate 
Clement,  one  day  saw  the  archbishop  complacently  exhibit- 
ing to  the  people  some  relics  of  St  Peter  which  he  had 
brought  from  Rome;  and  being  desirous  of  showing  the 
ridiculous  character  of  these  Romish  practices,  he  distributed 
among  the  bystanders  his  own  hair  and  nails,  praying  them 
£p  pay  these  the  same  honours  as  Boniface  claimed  for  the 
relics  of  the  papacy.  Clement  smiled,  like  many  others,  at 
Adalbert's  singular  argument;  but  it  was  not  with  such 
arms  that  he  was  wont  to  fight.  Gifted  with  profound  dis- 
cernment, he  had  remarked  that  the  authority  of  man  sub- 
stituted for  the  authority  of  God  was  the  source  of  all  the 
errors  of  Romanism.  At  the  same  time  he  maintained  on 
predestination  what  the  archbishop  called  "  horrible  doctrines, 

*  Canones  ecclesiarum  Christi  abnegat  et  refutat.  Bonifacii  cpistola 
ad  Papam,  Labbei  concilia  ad  ann.  745. 

f  Synodalia  jura  sperncns.    Ibid. 

J  Tractatus  et  scrmoncs  sanctorum  patrum,  Hieronymi,  Augustiui, 
Gregorii  recusat.  Ibid. 

§  Clemens  contra  catholicam  contendit  ecclesiam.    Ibid. 


CLEMENT  CONDEMNED.  63 

contrary  to  the  Catholic  faith."*  Clement's  character  inclines 
us  to  believe  that  he  was  favourable  to  the  doctrine  of  pre- 
destination. A  century  later  the  pious  Gottschalk  was  per- 
secuted by  one  of  Boniface's  successors  for  holding  this  very 
doctrine  of  Augustine's.  Thus  then  did  a  Scotchman,  the 
representative  of  the  ancient  faith  of  his  country,  withstand 
almost  unaided  in  the  centre  of  Europe  the  invasion  of  the 
Romans.  But  he  was  not  long  alone :  the  great  especially, 
more  enlightened  than  the  common  people,  thronged  around 
him.  If  Clement  had  succeeded,  a  Christian  church  would 
have  been  founded  on  the  continent  independent  of  the 
papacy. 

Boniface  was  confounded.  He  wished  to  do  in  central 
Europe  what  his  fellow-countryman  Wilfrid  had  done  in 
England ;  and  at  the  very  moment  he  fancied  he  was  ad- 
vancing from  triumph  to  triumph,  victory  escaped  from  his 
hands,  he  turned  against  this  new  enemy,  and  applying  to 
Charles  MartePs  sons,  Pepin  and  Carloman,  he  obtained 
their  consent  to.  the  assembling  of  a  council  before  which  he 
summoned  Clement  to  appear. 

The  bishops,  counts,  and  other  notabilities  having  met  at 
Soissons  on  the  2d  March  744,  Boniface  accused  the  Scotch- 
man of  despising  the  laws  of  Rome,  the  councils,  and  the 
fathers ;  attacked  his  marriage,  which  he  called  an  adulter- 
ous union,  and  called  in  question  some  secondary  points  of 
doctrine.  Clement  was  accordingly  excommunicated  by 
Boniface,  at  once  his  adversary,  accuser,  and  judge,  and 
thrown  into  prison,  with  the  approbation  of  the  pope  and 
the  king  of  the  Franks.-}- 

The  Scotchman's  cause  was  everywhere  taken  up ;  accu- 
sations were  brought  against  the  German  primate,  his  per- 
secuting spirit  was  severely  condemned,  and  his  exertions 
for  the  triumph  of  the  papacy  were  resisted.  |  Carloman 
yielded  to  this  unanimous  movement.  The  prison  doors 

*  Multa  alia  horribilia  do  prredestinatione  Dei,  contraria  fidei  catholics) 
iffirmat.  Bonifacii  epistola  ad  Papam,  Labbci  concilia  ad  aim.  7 1  ">. 

t  Sacerdotio  privans,  reduci  facit  in  custodiam.  Concilium  Romannm. 
Ibid. 

£  Propter  istas  cnim,  persecutiones  et  inimicitias  et  maledictioncs 
multorum  populorum  patior.  Ibid. 


64  VIRGIL  AKD  THE  ANTIPODES. 

were  opened,  and  Clement  had  hardly  crossed  the  threshold 
before  he  began  to  protest  boldly  against  human  authority 
in  matters  of  faith  :  the  word  of  God  is  the  only  rule.  Upon 
this  Boniface  applied  to  Rome  for  the  heretic's  condemna- 
tion, and  accompanied  his  request  by  a  silver  cup  and  a 
garment  of  delicate  texture.*  The  pope  decided  in  synod 
that  if  Clement  did  not  retract  his  errors,  he  should  be  de- 
livered up  to  everlasting  damnation,  and  then  requested 
Boniface  to  send  him  to  Rome  under  a  sure  guard.  We 
here  lose  all  traces  of  the  Scotchman,  but  it  is  easy  to  con- 
jecture what  must  have  been  his  fate. 

Clement  was  not  the  only  Briton  who  became  distinguished 
in  this  contest.  Two  fellow-countrymen,  Sampson  and 
Virgil,  who  preached  in  central  Europe,  were  in  like  manner 
persecuted  by  the  Church  of  Rome.  Virgil,  anticipating 
Galileo,  dared  maintain  that  there  were  other  men  and  ano- 
ther world  beneath  our  feet.-j-  He  was  denounced  by  Boni- 
face for  this  heresy,  and  condemned  by  the  pope,  as  were 
other  Britons  for  the  apostolical  simplicity  of  their  lives.  In 
813,  certain  Scotchmen  who  called  themselves  bishops,  says 
a  canon,  having  appeared  before  a  council  of  the  Roman 
church  at  Chalons,  were  rejected  by  the  French  prelates, 
because,  like  St  Paul,  they  ivorTced  with  their  own  hands. 
Those  enlightened  and  faithful  men  were  superior  to  their 
time  :  Boniface  and  his  ecclesiastical  materialism  were  bet- 
ter fitted  for  an  age  in  which  clerical  forms  were  regarded 
as  the  substance  of  religion. 

Even  Great  Britain,  although  its  light  was  not  so  pure, 
was  not  altogether  plunged  in  darkness.  The  Anglo-Saxons 
imprinted  on  their  church  certain  characteristics  which  dis- 
tinguished it  from  that  of  Rome  ;  several  books  of  the  Bible 
were  translated  into  their  tongue,  and  daring  spirits  on  the 
one  hand,  with  some  pious  souls  on  the  other,  laboured  in  a 
direction  hostile  to  popery. 

At  first  we  see  the  dawning  of  that  philosophic  rational- 

*  Poculum  argenteum  et  sindonem  unam.  Gemuli  Ep.  Bonifacii  epis- 
tola  ad  Papam,  Labbei  concilia  ad  ann.  745. 

.f  Perversa  doctrina quod  alius  mundus  et  alii  homines  sub  terra 

eiut.    Zacharise  papae  Ep.  ad  Bouif.  Labbei  concilia,  vi.  p.  152. 


DUNS  SCOTUS.  65 

ism,  which  gives  out  a  certain  degree  of  brightness,  but 
which  can  neither  conquer  error  nor  still  less  establish  truth. 
In  the  ninth  century  there  was  a  learned  scholar  in  Ireland, 
who  afterwards  settled  at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald.  He 
was  a  strange  mysterious  man,  of  profound  thought,  and  as 
much  raised  above  the  doctors  of  his  age  by  the  boldness 
of  his  ideas,  as  Charlemagne  above  the  princes  of  his  day  by 
the  force  of  his  will.  John  Scot  Erigena — that  is,  a  native 
of  Ireland  and  not  of  Ayr,  as  some  have  supposed — was  a 
meteor  in  the  theological  heavens.  "With  a  great  philoso- 
phic genius  he  combined  a  cheerful  jesting  disposition.  One 
day,  while  seated  at  table  opposite  to  Charles  the  Bald,  the 
latter  archly  inquired  of  him :  "  What  is  the  distance  be- 
tween a  Scot  and  a  sot  ?"  "  The  width  of  the  table,"  was 
his  ready  answer,  which  drew  a  smile  from  the  king.  While 
the  doctrine  of  Bede,  Boniface,  and  even  Alcuin  was  tradi- 
tional, servile,  and,  in  one  word,  Romanist,  that  of  Scot  was 
mystical,  philosophic,  free,  and  daring.  He  sought  for  the 
truth  not  in  the  word  or  in  the  Church,  but  in  himself: — 
"  The  knowledge  of  ourselves  is  the  true  source  of  religious 
wisdom.  Every  creature  is  a  theophany — a  manifestation 
of  God ;  since  revelation  presupposes  the  existence  of  truth, 
it  is  this  truth,  which  is  above  revelation,  with  which  man 
must  set  himself  in  immediate  relation,  leaving  him  at  liberty 
to  show  afterwards  its  harmony  with  scripture,  and  the  other 
theophanies.  We  must  first  employ  reason,  and  then  author- 
ity. Authority  proceeds  from  reason,  and  not  reason  from 
authority."*  Yet  this  bold  thinker,  when  on  his  knees,  could 
give  way  to  aspirations  full  of  piety :  "  0  Lord  Jesus," 
exclaimed  he,  "  I  ask  no  other  happiness  of  Thee,  but  to 
understand,  unmixed  with  deceitful  theories,  the  word  that 
Thou  hast  inspired  by  thy  Holy  Spirit !  Show  thyself  to 
those  who  ask  for  Thee  alone!"  But  while  Scot  rejected 
on  the  one  hand  certain  traditional  errors,  and  in  particular 
the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  which  was  creeping  into 
the  church,  he  was  near  falling  as  regards  God  and  the 

*  Prius  ratione  utendum  ac  deinde  auctoritate.  Auctoritas  ex  vcra 
ratione  processit,  ratio  vero  nequaquam  ex  auctoritato.  De  div.  pr»- 
destin. 

vor,.  v.  4 


66  ALFRED  AND  THE  BIBLE. 

world  into  other  errors  savouring  of  pantheism.*  The  phil- 
osophic rationalism  of  the  contemporary  of  Charles  the  Bald 
— the  strange  product  of  one  of  the  obscurest  periods  of  his- 
tory (850) — was  destined  after  the  lapse  of  many  centuries 
to  be  taught  once  more  in  Great  Britain  as  a  modern  inven- 
tion of  the  most  enlightened  age. 

While  Scot  was  thus  plumbing  the  depths  of  philosophy, 
others  were  examining  their  Bibles ;  and  if  thick  darkness 
had  not  spread  over  these  first  glimpses  of  the  dawn,  per- 
haps the  Church  of  Great  Britain  might  even  then  have 
begun  to  labour  for  the  regeneration  of  Christendom.  A 
youthful  prince,  thirsting  for  intellectual  enjoyments,  for 
domestic  happiness,  and  for  the  word  of  God,  and  who 
sought,  by  frequent  prayer,  for  deliverance  from  the  bondage 
of  sin,  had  ascended  the  throne  of  Wessex,  in  the  year  871. 
Alfred  being  convinced  that  Christianity  alone  could  rightly 
mould  a  nation,  assembled  round  him  the  most  learned  men 
from  all  parts  of  Europe,  and  was  anxious  that  the  English, 
like  the  Hebrews,  Greeks,  and  Latins,  should  possess  the 
holy  Scripture  in  their  own  language.  He  is  the  real  patron 
of  the  biblical  work, — a  title  far  more  glorious  than  that  of 
founder  of  the  university  of  Oxford.  After  having  fought 
more  than  fifty  battles  by  land  and  sea,  he  died  while  trans- 
lating the  Psalms  of  David  for  his  subjects,  -j- 

After  this  gleam  of  light  thick  darkness  once  more  settled 
upon  Great  Britain.  Nine  Anglo-Saxon  kings  ended  their 
days  in  monasteries ;  there  was  a  seminary  in  Rome  from 
which  every  year  fresh  scholars  bore  to  England  the  new 
forms  of  popery ;  the  celibacy  of  priests,  that  cement  of  the 
Romish  hierarchy,  was  established  by  a  bull  about  the  close 
of  the  tenth  century ;  convents  were  multiplied,  considerable 
possessions  were  bestowed  on  the  Church,  and  the  tax  of 
Peter's  pence,  laid  at  the  pontiff's  feet,  proclaimed  the 
triumph  of  the  papal  system.  But  a  reaction  soon  took 
place :  England  collected  her  forces  for  a  war  against  the 
papacy — a  war  at  one  time  secular  and  at  another  spiritual. 

*  Deum  in  omnibus  esse.    De  dmsione  nature,  b.  74. 
f  A  portion  of  the  law  of  God  translated  by  Alfred  may  be  found  in 
Wilkins,  Concilia,  i.  p.  1 86,  et  seq. 


WILUAM  THE  CONQUEROR.  67 

William  of  Normandy,  Edward  III.,  Wickliffe,  and  the  Re- 
formation, are  the  four  ascending  steps  of  Protestantism  in 
England. 

A  proud,  enterprising,  and  far-sighted  prince,  the  illegiti- 
mate son  of  a  peasant  girl  of  Falaise  and  Robert  the  Devil, 
duke  of  Normandy,  began  a  contest  with  the  papacy  which 
lasted  until  the  Reformation.  William  the  Conqueror,  hav- 
ing defeated  the  Saxons  at  Hastings  in  1066  A.D.,  took 
possession  of  England,  under  the  benediction  of  the  Roman 
pontiff.  But  the  conquered  country  was  destined  to  conquer 
its  master.  William,  who  had  invaded  England  in  the 
pope's  name,  had  no  sooner  touched  the  soil  of  his  new 
kingdom,  than  he  learned  to  resist  Rome,  as  if  the  ancient 
liberty  of  the  British  Church  had  revived  in  him.  Being 
firmly  resolved  to  allow  no  foreign  prince  or  prelate  to 
possess  in  his  dominions  a  jurisdiction  independent  of  his 
own,  he  made  preparations  for  a  conquest  far  more  difficult 
than  that  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  kingdom.  The  papacy  itself 
furnished  him  with  weapons.  The  Roman  legates  prevailed 
on  the  king  to  dispossess  the  English  episcopacy  in  a  mass, 
and  this  was  exactly  what  he  wished.  To  resist  the  papacy, 
William  desired  to  be  sure  of  the  submission  of  the  priests , 
of  England.  Stigand,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  re- 
moved, and  Lanfranc  of  Pavia,  who  had  been  summoned 
from  Bee  in  Normandy  to  fill  his  place,  was  commissioned 
by  the  Conqueror  to  bend  the  clergy  to  obedience.  This 
prelate,  who  was  regular  in  his  life,  abundant  in  almsgiving, 
a  learned  disputant,  a  prudent  politician,  and  a  skilful  me- 
diator, finding  that  he  had  to  choose  between  his  master 
King  William  and  his  friend  the  pontiff  Hildebrand,  gave 
the  prince  the  preference.  He  refused  to  go  to  Rome,  not- 
withstanding the  threats  of  the  pope,  and  applied  himself 
resolutely  to  the  work  the  king  had  intrusted  to  him.  The 
Saxons  sometimes  resisted  the  Normans,  as  the  Britons  had 
resisted  the  Saxons;  but  the  second  struggle  was  less 
glorious  than  the  first.  A  synod  at  which  the  king  was 
present  having  met  in  the  abbey  of  Westminster,  William 
commanded  Wulston,  bishop  of  Worcester,  to  give  up  his 
crosier  to  him.  The  old  man  rose,  animated  with  holy  fer- 


68  WULSTON  AT  EDWARD'S  TOMB. 

vour :  "  0  king,"  he  said,  "  from  a  better  man  than  you  I 
received  it,  and  to  him  only  will  I  return  it."*  Unhappily 
this  "better  man"  was  not  Jesus  Christ.  Then  approach- 
ing the  tomb  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  he  continued:  "0 
my  master,  it  was  you  who  compelled  me  to  assume  this 
office ;  but  now  behold  a  new  king  and  a  new  primate  who 
promulgate  new  laws.  Not  unto  them,  0  master,  but  unto 
you,  do  I  resign  my  crosier  and  the  care  of  my  flock."  With 
these  words  Wulston  laid  his  pastoral  staff  on  Edward's 
tomb.  On  the  sepulchre  of  the  confessor  perished  the  liberty 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  hierarchy.  The  deprived  Saxon  bishops 
were  consigned  to  fortresses  or  shut  up  in  convents. 

The  Conqueror  being  thus  assured  of  the  obedience  of  the 
bishops,  put  forward  the  supremacy  of  the  sword  in  opposi- 
tion to  that  of  the  pope.  He  nominated  directly  to  all  vacant 
ecclesiastical  offices,  filled  his  treasury  with  the  riches  of  the 
churches,  required  that  all  priests  should  make  oath  to  him, 
forbade  them  to  excommunicate  his  officers  without  his  con- 
sent, not  even  for  incest,  and  declared  that  all  synodal  de- 
cisions must  be  countersigned  by  him.  "  I  claim,"  said  he 
to  the  archbishop  one  day,  raising  his  arms  towards  heaven, 
. "  I  claim  to  hold  in  this  hand  all  the  pastoral  staffs  in  my 
kingdom." -f-  Lanfranc  was  astonished  at  this  daring  speech, 
but  prudently  kept  silent,:}:  for  a  time  at  least.  Episcopacy 
connived  at  the  royal  pretensions. 

Will  Hildebrand,  the  most  inflexible  of  popes,  bend  before 
William?  The  king  was  earnest  in  his  desire  to  enslave 
the  Church  to  the  State ;  the  pope  to  enslave  the  State  to 
the  Church :  the  collision  of  these  two  mighty  champions 
threatened  to  be  terrible.  But  the  haughtiest  of  pontiffs 
was  seen  to  yield  as  soon  as  he  felt  the  mail-clad  hand  of 
the  Conqueror,  and  to  shrink  unresistingly  before  it.  The 
pope  filled  all  Christendom  with  confusion,  that  he  might 
deprive  princes  of  the  right  of  investiture  to  ecclesiastical 

*  Divino  animi  ardore  repento  inflammatus,  regi  inquit  :  Melior  te 
his  me  ornavit  cui  et  reddam.  Wilkins,  Concilia,  i.  367. 

f  Respondit  rex  et  dixit  se  velle  omnes  baculos  pastorales  Angliaj  in 
manu  sua  tenere.  Script.  Anglic.  Loud.  1652,  fol.  p.  1327. 

£  Lanfranc  ad  haec  miratus  est,  sed  propter  majores  ecclesiae  Christi 
utilitates,  quas  sine  rege  perficere  non  potuit,  ad  tempus  siluit.  Ibid. 


THE  ^OPE  GIVES  WAY.  69 

dignities :  William  would  not  permit  him  to  interfere  with 
that  question  in  England,  and  Hildebrand  submitted.  The 
king  went  even  farther :  the  pope,  wishing  to  enslave  the 
clergy,  deprived  the  priests  of  their  lawful  wives ;  William 
got  a  decree  passed  by  the  council  of  Winchester  in  1076  to 
the  effect  that  the  married  priests  living  in  castles  and  towns 
should  not  be  compelled  to  put  away  their  wives.*  This 
was  too  much :  Hildebrand  summoned  Lanfranc  to  Rome, 
but  William  forbade  him  to  go.  "  Never  did  king,  not  even 
a  pagan,"  exclaimed  Gregory,  "attempt  against  the  holy 

see  what  this  man  does  not  fear  to  carry  out! "7 To 

console  himself,  be  demanded  payment  of  the  Peter's  pence, 
and  an  oath  of  fidelity.  William  sent  the  money,  but  re- 
fused the  homage;  and  when  Hildebrand  saw  the  tribute 
which  the  king  had  paid,  he  said  bitterly:  "What  value 
can  I  set  on  money  which  is  contributed  .with  so  little 
honour  I"  J  William  forbade  his  clergy  to  recognise  the 
pope,  or  to  publish  a  bull  without  the  royal  approbation, 
which  did  not  prevent  Hildebrand  from  styling  him  "  the 
pearl  of  princes."  §  "  It  is  true,"  said  he  to  his  legate,  "  that 
the  English  king  does  not  behave  in  certain  matters  so  re- 
ligiously as  we  could  desire Yet  beware  of  exasperating 

him We  shall  win  him  over  to  God  and  St  Peter  more 

surely  by  mildness  and  reason  than  by  strictness  or  se- 
verity." ||  In  this  manner  the  pope  acted  like  the  archbishop 
— siluit :  he  was  silent.  It  is  for  feeble  governments  that 
Rome  reserves  her  energies. 

The  Norman  kings,  desirous  of  strengthening  their  work, 
constructed  Gothic  cathedrals  in  the  room  of  wooden  churches, 
in  which  they  installed  their  soldier-bishops,  as  if  they  were 
strong  fortresses.  Instead  of  the  moral  power  and  the 
humble  crook  of  the  shepherd,  they  gave  them  secular  power 

*  Sacerdotes  vcro  in  castellis  vel  in  ricis  habitantes  habentes  uxores, 
non  cogantur  nt  dimittant.  Wilkins,  Concilia,  i.  p.  3C7. 

f  Nemo  enim  omnium  regum,  etiam  paganorum Greg.  lib.  vii.  Ep. 

i.  ad  Hubert. 

J  Pecunias  sine  honore  tributas,  quanti  pretii  habeain.    Ibid. 

§  Gemma  priucipnm  csse  meruisti.     Ibid.    Ep.  xxiii.  ad  Gulielm. 

||  Facilius  leuitatis  dulcedine  ac  rationis  ostcnsione,  quain  austeritnfo 
vel  rigore  justitiao.  Ibid.  Ep.  v.  ad  Hugonem. 


70  C^ESAROPAPIA. 

and  a  staff.  The  religious  episcopate  was  succeeded  by  a 
political  one.  William  Rufus  went  even  to  greater  lengths 
than  his  father.  Taking  advantage  of  the  schism  which 
divided  the  papacy,  he  did  without  a  pope  for  ten  years; 
leaving  abbeys,  bishoprics,  and  even  Canterbury  vacant, 
and  scandalously  squandering  their  revenues.  Csesaropapia 
(which  transforms  a  king  into  a  pope)  having  thus  attained 
its  greatest  excess,  a  sacerdotal  reaction  could  not  fail  to 
take  place. 

The  papacy  is  about  to  rise  up  again  in  England,  and  roy- 
alty to  decline — two  movements  which  are  always  found 
combined  in  Great  Britain. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Anselm's  Firmness — Becket's  Austerity — The  King  scourged— John  be- 
comes the  Pope's  Vassal— Collision  between  Popery  and  Liberty — 
The  Vassal  King  ravages  his  Kingdom— Religion  of  the  Senses  and 
Superstition. 

WE  are  now  entering  upon  a  new  phase  of  history.  Roman- 
ism is  on  the  point  of  triumphing  by  the  exertions  of  learned 
men,  energetic  prelates,  and  princes  in  whom  extreme  im- 
prudence was  joined  with  extreme  servility.  This  is  the  era 
of  the  dominion  of  popery,  and  we  shall  see  it  unscrupu- 
lously employing  the  despotism  by  which  it  is  characterized. 
A  malady  having  occasioned  some  degree  of  remorse  in 
the  king,  he  consented  to  fill  up  the  vacancy  in  the  archi- 
episcopal  see.  And  now  Anselm  first  appears  in  England. 
He  was  born  in  an  Alpine  valley,  at  the  town  of  Aosta  in 
Piedmont.  Imbibing  the  instructions  of  his  pious  mother 
Ermenberga,  and  believing  that  God's  throne  was  placed  on 
the  summit  of  the  gigantic  mountains  he  saw  rising  around 
him,  the  child  Anselm  climbed  them  in  Iris  dreams,  and  re- 
ceived the  bread  of  heaven  from  the  hands  of  the  Lord. 
Unhappily  in  after-years  he  recognised  another  throne  in  the 


ANBELM.  7) 

jhurch  of  Christ,  and  bowed  his  head  before  the  chair  of  St 
Peter.  This  was  the  man  whom  William  II.  summoned  in 
1093  to  fill  the  primacy  of  Canterbury.  Anselm,  who  was 
then  sixty  years  old,  and  engaged  in  teaching  at  Bee,  refused 
at  first :  the  character  of  Rufus  terrified  him.  "  The  church 
of  England,"  said  he,  "  is  a  plough  that  ouglii  to  be  drawn 
by  two  oxen  of  equal  strength.  How  can  you  yoke  together 
an  old  and  timid  sheep  like  me  and  that  wild  bull?  "  At  length 
he  accepted,  and  concealing  a  mind  of  great  power  under  an 
appearance  of  humility,  he  had  hardly  arrived  in  England 
before  he  recognised  Pope  Urban  II.,  demanded  the  estates 
of  his  see  which  the  treasury  had  seized  upon,  refused  to  pay 
the  king  the  sums  he  demanded,  contested  the  right  of  in- 
vestiture against  Henry  I.,  forbade  all  ecclesiastics  to  take 
the  feudal  oath,  and  determined  that  the  priests  should  forth- 
with put  away  their  wives.  Scholasticism,  of  which  An- 
selm was  the  first  representative,  freed  the  church  from  the 
yoke  of  royalty,  but  only  to  chain  it  to  the  papal  chair. 
The  fetters  were  about  to  be  riveted  by  a  still  more  ener- 
getic hand ;  and  what  this  great  theologian  had  begun,  a 
great  worldling  was  to  carry  on. 

At  the  hunting  parties  of  Henry  II.  a  man  attracted  the 
attention  of  his  sovereign  by  his  air  of  frankness,  agreeable 
manners,  witty  conversation,  and  exuberant  vivacity.  This 
was  Thomas  Becket,  the  son  of  an  Anglo-Saxon  and  a  Sy- 
rian woman.  Being  both  priest  and  soldier,  he  was  appoint- 
ed at  the  same  time  by  the  king  prebend  of  Hastings  and 
governor  of  the  Tower.  "When  nominated  chancellor  of 
England,  he  showed  himself  no  less  expert  than  Wilfrid  in 
misappropriating  the  wealth  of  the  minors  in  his  charge, 
and  of  the  abbeys  and  bishoprics,  and  indulged  in  the  most 
extravagant  luxury.  Henry,  the  first  of  the  Plantagenets, 
a  man  of  undecided  character,  having  noticed  Becket's  zeal 
in  upholding  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown,  appointed  him 
archbishop  of  Canterbury.  "  Now,  sire,"  remarked  the  pri- 
mate, with  a  smile,  "when  I  shall  have  to  choose  between 
God's  favour  and  yours,  remember  it  is  yours  that  I  shall 
sacrifice." 

Becket,  who,  as  keeper  of  the  seals,  had  been  the  most 


72  THOMAS  BECKET  OPPOSES  THE  KING. 

magnificent  of  courtiers,  affected  as  archbishop  to  be  the 
most  venerable  of  saints.  He  sent  back  the  seals  to  the 
king,  assumed  the  robe  of  a  monk,  wore  sackcloth  filled  with 
vermin,  lived  on  the  plainest  food,  every  day  knelt  down  to 
wash  the  feet  of  the  poor,  paced  the  cloisters  of  his  cathedra! 
with  tearful  eyes,  and  spent  hours  in  prayer  before  the  altar. 
As  champion  of  the  priests,  even  in  their  crimes,  he  took 
under  his  protection  one  who  to  the  crime  of  seduction  had 
added  the  murder  of  his  victim's  father. 

The  judges  having  represented  to  Henry  that  during  the 
first  eight  years  of  his  reign  a  hundred  murders  had  been  com- 
mitted by  ecclesiastics,  the  king  in  1164  summoned  a  coun- 
cil at  Clarendon,  in  which  certain  regulations  or  constitu- 
tions were  drawn  up,  with  the  object  of  preventing  the 
encroachments  of  the  hierarchy.  Becket  at  first  refused  to 
sign  them,  but  at  length  consented,  and  then  withdrew  into 
solitary  retirement  to  mourn  over  his  fault.  Pope  Alexan- 
der III.  released  him  from  his  oath  ;  and  then  began  a  fierce 
and  long  struggle  between  the  king  and  the  primate.  Four 
knights  of  the  court,  catching  up  a  hasty  expression  of  their 
master's,  barbarously  murdered  the  archbishop  at  the  foot  of 
the  altar  in  his. own  cathedral  church  (A.  D.  1170).  The 
people  looked  upon  Becket  as  a  saint :  immense  crowds 
came  to  pray  at  his  tomb,  at  which  many  miracles  were 
worked.*  "  Even  from  his  grave,"  said  Becket's  partisans, 
"  he  renders  his  testimony  in  behalf  of  the  papacy." 

Henry  now  passed  from  one  extreme  to  the  other.  He 
entered  Canterbury  barefooted,  and  prostrated  himself  be- 
fore the  martyr's  tomb  :  the  bishops,  priests,  and  monks,  to 
the  number  of  eighty,  passed  before  him,  each  bearing  a 
scourge,  and  struck  three  or  five  blows  according  to  their 
rank  on  the  naked  shoulders  of  the  king.  In  former  ages, 
so  the  priestly  fable  ran,  Saint  Peter  had  scourged  an  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  :  now  Rome  in  sober  reality  scourges 
the  back  of  royalty,  and  nothing  can  henceforward  check  her 
victorious  career.  A  Plantagenet  surrendered  England  to 

*  In  loco  passionis  et  ubi  sepultus  est,  paralytici  curantur,  cceci  videnl 
surdi  audiunt.    Jolian.  Salisb.  Epp.  286, 


JOHN  TEE  POPE'S  VASSAL.  73 

the  pope,  and  the  pope  gave  him  authority  to  subdue  Ire- 
land* 

Rome,  who  had  set  her  foot  on  the  neck  of  a  king,  was 
destined  under  one  of  the  sons  of  Henry  II.  to  set  it  on  the 
neck  of  England.  John  being  unwilling  to  acknowledge  an 
archbishop  of  Canterbury  illegally  nominated  by  Pope  In- 
nocent III.,  the  latter,  more  daring  than  Hildebrand,  laid 
the  kingdom  under  an  interdict.  Upon  this  John  ordered 
all  the  prelates  and  abbots  to  leave  England,  and  sent  a 
monk  to  Spain  as  ambassador  to  Mahomet-el-Nasir,  offer- 
ing to  turn  Mahometan  and  to  become  his  vassal.  But  as 
Philip  Augustus  was  preparing  to  dethrone  him,  John  made 
up  his  mind  to  become  a  vassal  of  Innocent,  and  not  of  Ma- 
homet— which  was  about  the  same  thing  to  him.  On  the 
15th  May  1213,  he  laid  his  crown  at  the  legate's  feet,  de- 
clared that  he  surrendered  his  kingdom  of  England  to  the 
pope,  and  made  oath  to  him  as  to  his  lord  paramount. •{• 

A  national  protest  then  boldly  claimed  the  ancient  liber- 
ties of  the  people.  Forty-five  barons,  armed  in  complete 
mail,  and  mounted  on  their  noble  war-horses,  surrounded  by 
their  knights  and  servants  and  about  two  thousand  soldiers, 
met  at  Brackley  during  the  festival  of  Easter  in  1215,  and 
sent  a  deputation  to  Oxford,  where  the  court  then  resided. 
"  Here,"  sakl  they  to  the  king,  "  is  the  charter  which  conse- 
crates the  liberties  confirmed  by  Henry  II.,  and  which  you 

also  have  solemnly  sworn  to  observe." "Why  do  they 

not  demand  my  crown  also?"  said  the  king  in  a  furious 
passion,  and  then  with  an  oath,J:  he  added:  "I  will  not 
grant  them  liberties  which  will  make  me  a  slave."  This  is 
the  usual  language  of  weak  and  absolute  kings.  Neither 
would  the  nation  submit  to  be  enslaved.  The  barons  occu- 
pied London,  and  on  the  15th  June  1215,  the  king  signed 
the  famous  Magiia  Charta  at  Runnymede.  The  political 

*  Significasti  si  quidem  nobis,  fill  carissime,  te  Hiberniae  insulam  ad 
subdendum  ilium  populum  velle  intrare,  nos  itaque  gratum  et  acceptum 
habemus  ut  pro  dilatandis  ecclesiae  terminis  insulam  ingrediaris.  Ad- 
rian IV.,  Bulla  1154  in  Rymer,  Acta  Publica. 

+  Resignavit  coronam  suam  in  manus  domini  papa;.  Matth.  ParL<, 
J98et207. 

J  Cum  juramento  furibunds.    Ibid.  213 

4*  D 


74  POPERY  AND  LIBERTY  IN  COLLISION. 

protestantism  of  the  thirteenth  century  would  have  done  but 
little,  however,  for  the  greatness  of  the  nation,  without  the 
religious  protestantism  of  the  sixteenth. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  the  papacy  came  into  collision 
with  modern  liberty.  It  shuddered  in  alarm,  and  the  shock 
was  violent.  Innocent  swore  (as  was  his  custom),  and  then 
declared  the  Great  Charter  null  and  void,  forbade  the  king 
under  pain  of  anathema  to  respect  the  liberties  which  he 
had  confirmed,*  ascribed  the  conduct  of  the  barons  to  the  in- 
stigation of  Satan,  and  ordered  them  to  make  apology  to  the 
king,  and  to  send  a  deputation  to  Rome  to  learn  from  the 
mouth  of  the  pope  himself  what  should  be  the  government 
of  England.  This  was  the  way  in  which  the  papacy  wel- 
comed the  first  manifestations  of  liberty  among  the  na- 
tions, and  made  known  the  model  system  under  which  it 
claimed  to  govern  the  whole  world. 

The  priests  of  England  supported  the  anathemas  pro- 
nounced by  their  chief.  They  indulged  in  a  thousand  jeers 
and  sarcasms  against  John  about  the  charter  he  had  ac- 
cepted : — "  This  is  the  twenty-fifth  king  of  England — not  a 
king,  not  even  a  kingling — but  the  disgrace  of  kings — a 
king  without  a  kingdom — the  fifth  wheel  of  a  waggon — the 
last  of  kings,  and  the  disgrace  of  his  people ! — I  would  not 

give  a  straw  for  him Fuisti  rex  nunc  fex,  (once  a  king, 

but  now  a  clown.)"  John,  unable  to  support  his  disgrace, 
groaned  and  gnashed  his  teeth  and  rolled  his  eyes,  tore 
sticks  from  the  hedges  and  gnawed  them  like  a  maniac,  or 
dashed  them  into  fragments  on  the  ground,  f 

The  barons,  unmoved  alike  by  the  insolence  of  the  pope 
and  the  despair  of  the  king,  replied  that  they  would  maintain 
the  charter.  Innocent  excommunicated  them.  "Is  it  the 
pope's  business  to  regulate  temporal  matters?"  asked  they. 
"  By  what  right  do  vile  usurers  and  foul  simoniac&  domineer 
over  our  country  and  excommunicate  the  whole  world  ? " 

The  pope  soon  triumphed  throughout  England.    His  vas- 

*  Sub  intimatione  anathematis  prohibentes  ne  dictus  rex  earn  obser- 
vare  praesumat.  Matth.  Paris,  224. 

t  Arreptos  baculos  et  stipites  more  furiosi  nunc  corrodere,  nunc  corro- 
BOS  confringere.  Ibid.  222, 


JOHN  RAVAGES  ENGLAND— HIS  DEATH.          75 

flal  John,  having  hired  some  bands  of  adventurers  from  the 
continent,  traversed  at  their  head  the  whole  country  from  the 
Channel  to  the  Forth.  These  mercenaries  carried  desolation 
in  their  track :  they  extorted  money,  made  prisoners,  burnt 
the  barons'  castles,  laid  waste  their  parks,  and  dishonoured 
their  wives  and  daughters.*  The  king  would  sleep  in  a 
house,  and  the  next  morning  set  fire  to  it.  Blood-stained 
assassins  scoured  the  country  during  the  night,  the  sword  in 
one  hand  and  the  torch  in  the  other,  marking  their  progress 
by  murder  and  conflagration.  7  Such  was  the  enthroniza- 
tion  of  popery  in  England.  At  this  sight  the  barons,  over- 
come by  emotion,  denounced  both  the  king  and  the  pope : 
"Alas!  poor  country!"  they  exclaimed.  "Wretched  Eng- 
land!  And  thou,  0  pope,  a  curse  light  upon  thee!"J 

The  curse  was  not  long  delayed.  As  the  king  was  re- 
turning from  some  more  than  usually  successful  foray,  and 
AS  the  royal  waggons  were  crossing  the  sands  of  the  Wash, 
the  tide  rose  and  all  sank  in  the  abyss.  §  This  accident 
filled  John  with  terror :  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  earth  was 
about  to  open  and  swallow  him  up ;  he  fled  to  a  convent, 
where  he  drank  copiously  of  cider,  and  died  of  drunkenness 
and  fright.  || 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  pope's  vassal — of  his  armed 
missionary  in  Great  Britain.  Never  had  so  vile  a  prince 
been  the  involuntary  occasion  to  his  people  of  such  great 
benefits.  From  his  reign  England  may  date  her  enthusiasm 
for  liberty  and  her  dread  of  popery. 

During -this  time  a  great  transformation  had  been  accom- 
plished. Magnificent  churches  and  the  marvels  of  religious 
art,  with  ceremonies  and  a  multitude  of  prayers  and  chant- 
ings  dazzled  the  eyes,  charmed  the  ears,  and  captivated  the 
senses;  but  testified  also  to  the  absence  of  every  strong 

*  Uxores  et  filiaa  suas  ludibrio  expositas.    Matth.  Paris,  231. 

+  Discurrebant  sicarii  caede  humana  cruentati,  noctivagi,  incendiafii, 
strictis  ensibus.  Ibid. 

£  Sic  barones  lacrymantcs  et  lamentantes  regem  et  papam  maledix- 
erunt.  Ibid.  234. 

§  Aperta  est  in  mediis  fluctibus  terra  et  Yoraginis  abyssus,  quse  ab- 
sorbuerunt  universa  cum  hominibus  et  equis.  Ibid.  242. 

y  Novi  ciceris  potatione  nimis  repletus.    Ibid.  1216. 


76  REACTION. 

moral  and  Christian  disposition,  and  the  predominance  of 
worldliness  in  the  church.  At  the  same  time  the  adoration 
of  images  and  relics,  saints,  angels,  and  Mary  the  mother  of 
God,  the  worships  of  latria,  doulia,  and  Tiyperdoulia*  the 
real  Mediator  transported  from  the  throne  of  mercy  to  the 
seat  of  vengeance,  at  once  indicated  and  kept  up  among  the 
people  that  ignorance  of  truth  and  absence  of  grace  which 
characterize  popery.  All  these  errors  tended  to  bring  about 
a  reaction :  and  in  fact  the  march  of  the  Eeformation  may 
now  be  said  to  begin. 

England  had  been,  brought  low  by  the  papacy:  it  rose  up 
again  by  resisting  Eome.  Grostete,  Bradwardine,  and  Ed- 
ward III.  prepared  the  way  for  Wickliffe,  and  Wickliffe  for 
the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Reaction— Grostete — Principles  of  Reform — Contest  with  the  Pope — 
Sewal— Progress  of  the  Nation — Opposition  to  the  Papacy — Conver- 
sion of  Bradwardine— Grace  is  Supreme — Edward  III. — Statutes  of 
Provisors  and  PrtBmunire. 

IN  the  reign  of  Henry  III.,  son  of  John,  while  the  king  was 
conniving  at  the  usurpations  of  Rome,  and  the  pope  ridicul- 
ing the  complaints  of  the  barons,  a  pious  and  energetic  man, 
of  comprehensive  understanding,  was  occupied  in  the  study 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  their  original  languages,  and  bow- 
ing to  their  sovereign  authority.  Robert  Grostfite  (Great- 
head  or  Capita]  was  born  of  poor  parents  in  the  county  of 
Lincolnshire,  and  being  raised  to  the  see  of  Lincoln  in  1235, 
when  he  was  sixty  years  of  age,  he  boldly  undertook  to 
reform  his  diocese,  one  of  the  largest  in  England.  Nor 
was  this  all.  At  the  very  time  when  the  Roman  pontiff, 
who  had  hitherto  been  content  to  be  called  the  vicar  of  Saint 

*  The  Romish  church  distinguishes  three  kinds  of  worship :  latria, 
that  paid  to  God ;  doulia*  to  saints ;  and  hyperdoulia,  to  the  Virgin 
Mary. 


QROSTETE — REFORMING  PRINCIPLES.  77 

Peter,  proclaimed  himself  the  yicar  of  God,*  and  was  order- 
ing the  English  bishops  to  find  benefices  for  three  hun- 
dred Romans^  Grostete  was  declaring,  that  "  to  follow  a 
pope  who  rebels  against  the  will  of  Christ,  is  to  separate 
from  Christ  and  his  body ;  and  if  ever  the  time  should  come 
when  all  men  follow  an  erring  pontiff,  then  will  be  the  great 
apostasy.  Then  will  true  Christians  refuse  to  obey,  and 
Rome  will  be  the  cause  of  an  unprecedented  schism."  J  Thus 
did  he  predict  the  Reformation.  Disgusted  at  the  avarice  of 
the  monks  and  priests,  he  visited  Rome  to  demand  a  reform. 
"  Brother,"  said  Innocent  IV.  to  him  with  some  irritation, 
"  7s  thine  eye  evil  because  I  am  good  ?  "  The  English 
bishop  exclaimed  with  a  sigh :  "  0  money,  money !  how 
great  is  thy  power — especially  in  this  court  of  Rome ! " 

A  year  had  scarcely  elapsed  before  Innocent  commanded 
the  bishop  to  give  a  canonry  in  Lincoln  cathedral  to  his  in- 
fant nephew.  Grostete  replied :  "  After  the  sin  of  Lucifei 
there  is  none  more  opposed  to  the  gospel  than  that  which 
ruins  souls  by  giving  them  a  faithless  minister.  Bad  pas- 
tors are  the  cause  of  unbelief,  heresy,  and  disorder.  Those 
who  introduce  them  into  the  church  are  little  better  than 
antichrists,  and  their  culpability  is  in  proportion  to  their 
dignity.  Although  the  chief  of  the  angels  should  order  me 
to  commit  such  a  sin,  I  would  refuse.  My  obedience  forbids 
me  to  obey ;  and  therefore  I  rebel."  § 

Thus  spoke  a  bishop  to  his  pontiff:  his  obedience  to  the 
word  of  God  forbade  him  to  obey  the  pope.  This  was  the 
principle  of  the  Reformation.  "  Who  is  this  old  driveller 
that  in  his  dotage  dares  to  judge  of  my  conduct  ?  "  exclaimed 
Innocent,  whose  wrath  was  appeased  by  the  intervention  of 
certain  cardinals.  Grostete  on  his  dying  bed  professed  still 


•  Non  puri  hominis  sed  reri  Dei  viccm  gerit  in  terris.  Innocent  III. 
Epp.  lib.  vi.  i.  335. 

t  Ut  trecentis  Romania  in  primis  beneficiis  vacantibus  providerent. 
Matth.  Paris,  ann.  1240. 

J  Absit  et  quod ha?c  scdes  ct  in  ea  proesidentes  causa  sint  schismatis 

apparcntis.  Ortinnus  Gratius,  ed.  Brown,  fol.  251. 

§  Obedienter  non  obedio  sed  contradico  et  rcbello.  Matth.  Paris,  ad. 
aim.  1252. 


78   COKTEST  WITH  THE  POPE — PROGRESS  OF  THE  NATION. 

more  clearly  the  principles  of  the  reformers ;  he  declared  that 
a  heresy  was  "  an  opinion  conceived  by  carnal  motives,  con- 
trary to  Scripture,  openly  taught  and  obstinately  defended," 
thus  asserting  the  authority  of  Scripture  instead  of  the 
authority  of  the  church.  He  died  in  peace,  and  the  public 
voice  proclaimed  him  "  a  searcher  of  the  Scriptures,  an  ad- 
versary of  the  pope,  and  despiser  of  the  Romans."  *  Inno- 
cent, desiring  to  take  vengeance  on  his  bones,  meditated  the 
exhumation  of  his  body,  when  one  night  (says  Matthew  of 
Paris)  the  bishop  appeared  before  him.  Drawing  near  the 
pontiff's  bed,  he  struck  him  with  his  crosier,  and  thus 
addressed  him  with  terrible  voice  and  threatening  look :  -J- 
'•'•  Wretch !  the  Lord  doth  not  permit  thee  to  .have  any  power 
over  me.  Woe  be  to  thee !  "  The  vision  disappeared,  and 
the  pope,  uttering  a  cry  as  if  he  had  been  struck  by  some 
sharp  weapon,  lay  senseless  on  his  couch.  Never  after  did 
he  pass  a  quiet  night,  and  pursued  by  the  phantoms  of  his 
troubled  imagination,  he  expired  while  the  palace  re-echoed 
with  his  lamentable  groans. 

Grostete  was  not  single  in  his  opposition  to  the  pope. 
Sewal,  archbishop  of  York,  did  the  same,  and  "  the  more 
the  pope  cursed  him,  the  more  the  people  blessed  him."  \ — 
"  Moderate  your  tyranny,"  said  the  archbishop  to  the  pon- 
tiff, "for  the  Lord  said  to  Peter,  Feed  my  sheep,  and  not 
shear  them,  flay  them,  or  devour  them" §  The  pope  smiled 
and  let  the  bishop  speak,  because  the  king  allowed  the  pope 
to  act.  The  power  of  England,  which  was  constantly  in- 
creasing, was  soon  able  to  give  more  force  to  these  protests. 

The  nation  was  indeed  growing  in  greatness.  The  mad- 
ness of  John,  which  had  caused  the  English  people  to  lose 

*  Scripturarum  sedulus  perscrutator  diversarum,  Romanorum  malleus 
et  contemptor.  Matth.  Paris,  vol.  ii.  p.  876,  fol.  Lond.  1640.  Sixteen 
of  his  writings  (Sermones  et  epistolse)  will  bo  found  in  Brown,  app.  ad 
Fasciculum. 

f  Nocte  apparuit  ei  episcopus  vultu  severe,  intuitu  austero,  ac  voce 
terribili.  Ibid.  883. 

t  Quanto  magis  a  papa  maledicebatur,tanto  plus  a  populo  benediceba- 
tur.  Ibid,  ad  ann.  1257. 

§  Pasce  oves  meas,  non  tonde,  non  excoria,  non  eviscera,  vel  devorando 
<>  tisume.  Ibid,  ad  ann.  1258. 


OPPOSITION  TO  THE  PAPACY.  79 

their  continental  possessions,  had  given  them  more  unity 
and  power.  The  Norman  kings,  being  compelled  to  renounce 
entirely  the  country  which  had  been  their  cradle,  had  at 
length  made  up  their  minds  to  look  upon  England  as  their 
home.  The  two  races,  so  long  hostile,  melted  one  into  the 
other.  Free  institutions  were  formed  ;  the  laws  were  studied; 
and  colleges  were  founded.  The  language  began  to  assume 
a  regular  form,  and  the  ships  of  England  were  already  for- 
midable at  sea.  For  more  than  a  century  the  most  brilliant 
victories  attended  the  British  armies.  A  king  of  France 
was  brought  captive  to  London :  an  English  king  was 
crowned  at  Paris.  Even  Spain  and  Italy  felt  the  valour  of 
these  proud  islanders.  The  English  people  took  their  station 
in  the  foremost  rank.  Now  the  character  of  a  nation  is 
never  raised  by  halves.  When  the  mighty  ones  of  the 
earth  were  seen  to  fall  before  her,  England  could  no  longer 
crawl  at  the  feet  of  an  Italian  priest. 

At  no  period  did  her  laws  attack  the  papacy  with  so  much 
energy.  At  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  an  Eng- 
lishman having  brought  to  London  one  of  the  pope's  bulls 
— a  bull  of  an  entirely  spiritual  character,  it  was  an  excom- 
munication— was  prosecuted  as  a  traitor  to  the  crown,  and 
would  have  been  hanged,  had  not  the  sentence,  at  the  chan- 
cellor's intercession,  been  changed  to  perpetual  banishment.* 
The  common  law  was  the  weapon  the  government  then  op- 
posed to  the  papal  bulls.  Shortly  afterwards,  in  1307,  King 
Edward  ordered  the  sheriffs  to  resist  the  arrogant  pretensions 
of  the  Romish  agents.  But  it  is  to  two  great  men  in  the 
fourteenth  century,  equally  illustrious,  the  one  in  the  state, 
and  the  other  in  the  church,  that  England  is  indebted  for  the 
development  of  the  protestant  element  in  England. 

In  1346,  an  English  army,  34,000  strong,  met  face  to  face 
at  Crecy  a  French  army  of  100,000  fighting  men.  Two  in- 
dividuals of  very  different  characters  were  in  the  English 
host.  One  of  them  was  King  Edward  III.,  a  brave  and  am- 
bitious prince,  who,  being  resolved  to  recover  for  the  royal 
authority  all  its  power,  and  for  England  all  her  glory,  had 

"  Fuller's  Church  History,  cent.  xiv.  p.  90,  fol.  Lond.  1655. 


80  BRADWARDINE 's  CONVERSION. 

undertaken  the  conquest  of  France.  The  other  was  his 
chaplain  Bradwardine,  a  man  of  so  humble  a  character  that 
his  meekness  was  often  taken  for  stupidity.  And  thus  it 
was  that  on  his  receiving  the  pallium  at  Avignon  from  the 
hands  of  the  pope  on  his  elev.ation  to  the  see  of  Canterbury, 
a  jester  mounted  on  an  ass  rode  into  the  hall  and  petitioned 
thepontiffto  make  him  primate  msiea.d  of  that  imbecile  priest. 
Bradwardine  was  one  of  the  most  pious  men  of  the  age, 
and  to  his  prayers  his  sovereign's  victories  were  ascribed. 
He  was  also  one  of  the  greatest  geniuses  of  his  time,  and 
occupied  the  first  rank  among  astronomers,  philosophers,  and 
mathematicians.*  The  pride  of  science  had  at  first  alienated 
him  from  the  doctrine  of  the  cross.  But  one  day  while  in 
the  house  of  God  and  listening  to  the  reading  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  these  words  struck  his  ear :  It  is  not  of  him  that 
tvilleth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God  that  showeth 
mercy.  His  ungrateful  heart,  he  tells  us,  at  first  rejected  this 
humiliating  doctrine  with  aversion.  Yet  the  word  of  God 
had  laid  its  powerful  hold  upon  him  ;  he  was  converted  to 
the  truths  he  had  despised,  and  immediately  began  to  set 
forth  the  doctrines  of  eternal  grace  at  Merton  College, 
Oxford.  He  had  drunk  so  deep  at  the  fountain  of  Scripture 
that  the  traditions  of  men  concerned  him  but  little,  and  he 
was  so  absorbed  in  adoration  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  that  he 
remarked  not  outward  superstitions.  His  lectures  were 
eagerly  listened  to  and  circulated  through  all  Europe.  The 
grace  of  God  was  their  very  essence,  as  it  was  of  the  Refor- 
mation. With  sorrow  Bradwardine  beheld  Pelagianism 
everywhere  substituting  a  mere  religion  of  externals  for 
inward  Christianity,  and  on  his  knees  he  struggled  for  the 
salvation  of  the  church.  "As  in  the  times  of  old,  four 
hundred  and  fifty  prophets  of  Baal  strove  against  a  single 
prophet  of  God  ;  so  now,  0  Lord,"  he  exclaimed, "  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  strive  with  Pelagius  against  thy  free  grace 
cannot  be  counted. t  They  pretend  not  to  receive  grace 

*  His  Arithmetic  and  Geometry  have  been  published ;  but  I  am 
not  aware  if  that  is  the  case  with  his  Astronomical  Tables. 

t  Quot,  Domine,  hodie  cum  Pelagio  pro  hbero  arbitrio  contra  gra- 
tuitam  gratiam  tuam  pugnant?  De  causa  Dei  atlversus  Pelagium, 
Hbritres,  Lond.  1618. 


EDWARD  HI.  81 

freely,  but  to  buy  it.*  The  will  of  men  (they  say)  should 
precede,  and  thine  should  follow  :  theirs  is  the  mistress,  and 

thine  the  servantf Alas!  nearly  the  whole  world  is 

walking  in  error  in  the  steps  of  Pelagius.J  Arise,  0  Lord, 
and  judge  thy  cause."  And  the  Lord  did  arise,  but  not  until 
after  the  death  of  this  pious  archbishop — in  the  days  of 
Wickliffe,  who,  when  a  youth,  listened  to  the  lectures  at 
Merton  College — and  especially  in  the  days  of  Luther  and 
of  Calvin.  His  contemporaries  gave  him  the  name  of  the 
profound  doctor. 

If  Bradwardine  walked  truthfully  in  the  path  of  faith,  his 
illustrious  patron  Edward  advanced  triumphantly  in  the 
field  of  policy.  Pope  Clement  IV.  having  decreed  that  the 
first  two  vacancies  in  the  Anglican  church  should  be  con- 
ferred on  two  of  his  cardinals  :  "  France  is  becoming  Eng- 
lish" said  the  courtiers  to  the  king :  "  and  by  way  of  com- 
pensation, England  is  becoming  Italian."  Edward,  desirous 
of  guaranteeing  the  religious  liberties  of  England,  passed 
with  the  consent  of  parliament  in  1350  the  statute  of  Pro- 
visors,  which  made  void  every  ecclesiastical  appointment 
contrary  to  the  rights  of  the  king,  the  chapters,  or  the  patrons. 
Thus  the  privileges  of  the  chapters  and  the  liberty  of  the 
English  Catholics,  as  well  as  the  independence  of  the  crown, 
were  protected  against  the  invasion  of  foreigners ;  and  im- 
prisonment or  banishment  for  life  was  denounced  upon  all 
offenders  against  the  law. 

This  bold  step  alarmed  the  pontiff.  Accordingly,  three 
years  after,  the  king  having  nominated  one  of  his  secretaries 
to  the  see  of  Durham — a  man  without  any  of  the  qualities 
becoming  a  bishop — the  pope  readily  confirmed  the  appoint- 
ment. When  some  one  expressed  his  astonishment  at  this, 
the  pope  made  answer :  "  If  the  king  of  England  had  nomi- 
nated an  ass,  I  would  have  accepted  him."  This  may  re- 
mind us  of  the  ass  of  Avignon ;  and  it  would  seem  that  this 
humble  animal  at  that  time  played  a  significant  part  in  the 

*  Ncquaquam  gratuita  scd  vcmlita.  Do  causa* Dei  advcrsns  Pelagium, 
libri  tres,  Lond.  1618.  ^^~ 

f  Suamvoluntatem  pra:ireutdominam,tuamsubsequiutanciliam.  Ibid 
%  Totus  paene  mundua  post  Pelagium  abiit  in  errorem.    Ibid. 

D2 


82  STATUTES  OF  PROVISOES  AND  PE^EMUNIRK. 

elections  to  the  papacy.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  the  pope 
withdrew  his  pretensions.  "  Empires  have  their  term,"  ob- 
serves an  historian  at  this  place ;  "  when  once  they  have 
reached  it,  they  halt,  they  retrograde,  they  fall."* 

The  term  seemed  to  be  drawing  nearer  every  day.  In  the 
reign  of  Edward  III.,  between  1343  and  1353,  again  in  1364, 
and  finally  under  Richard  II.  in  1393,  those  stringent  laws 
were  passed  which  interdicted  all  appeal  to  the  court  of 
Rome,  all  bulls  from  the  Roman  bishop,  all  excommunica- 
tions, &c.,  in  a  word,  every  act  infringing  on  the  rights  of 
the  crown;  and  declared  that  whoever  should  bring  such 
documents  into  England,  or  receive,  publish,  or  execute 
them,  should  be  put  out  of  the  king's  protection,  deprived  of 
their  property,  attached  in  their  persons,  and  brought  before 
the  king  in  council  to  undergo  their  trial  according  to  the 
terms  of  the  act.  Such  was  the  statute  of  Prcemunire. -\- 

Great  was  the  indignation  of  the  Romans  at  the  news  of 
this  law :  "  If  the  statute  of  mortmain  put  the  pope  into  a 
sweat,"  says  Fuller,  "  this  of  prcemunire  gave  him  a  fit  of 
fever."  One  pope  called  it  an  "  execrable  statute," — "  a 
horrible  crime."J  Such  are  the  terms  applied  by  the  pon- 
tiffs to  all  that  thwarts  their  ambition. 

Of  the  two  wars  carried  on  by  Edward — the  one  against 
the  king  of  France,  and  the  other  against  popery — the  latter 
was  the  most  righteous  and  important.  The  benefits  which 
this  prince  had  hoped  to  derive  from  his  brilliant  victories  at 
Crecy  and  Poitiers  dwindled  away  almost  entirely  before  his 
death ;  while  his  struggles  with  the  papacy,  founded  as  they 
were  on  truth,  have  exerted  even  to  our  own  days  an  indis- 
putable influence  on  the  destinies  of  Great  Britain.  Yet  the 
prayers  and  the  conquests  of  Bradwardine,  who  proclaimed 


*  Habent  imperia  sues  terminos  ;  hue  cum  venerint,  sistunt,  retro 
cedunt,  ruunt.  Fuller's  Hist.  cent.  xiv.  p.  116. 

f  The  most  natural  meaning  of  the  word  prcemunire  (given  more  par- 
ticuarly  to  the  act  of  1393)  seems  to  be  that  suggested  by  Fuller,  cent. 
xiv.  (p.  148) :  to  fence  and  fortify  the  regal  power  from  foreign  assault 
See  the  whole  bill,  ibid.  p.  145-147. 

J  Execrabile  statutum fcedum  et  turpe  facinus.  Martin  V.  to  the 

Duke  of  Bedford,  Fuller,  cent,  xiv  p.  148. 


THE  BEGGING  FRIARS.  83 

in  that  fallen  age  the  doctrine  of  grace,  produced  effects  still 
greater,  not  only  for  the  salvation  of  many  souls,  but  for  the 
liberty,  moral  force,  and  greatness  of  England. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Mendicant  Friars — Their  Disorders  and  Popular  Indignation — 
Wickliffe— His  Success— Speeches  of  the  Peers  against  the  Papal  Tri- 
bute— Agreement  of  Bruges — Courtenay  and  Lancaster — WicklifFe 
before  the  Convocation— Altercation  between  Lancaster  and  Cour- 
tenay— Riot — Three  Briefs  against  Wickliffe — Wickliffe  at  Lambeth 
— Mission  of  the  Poor  Prietts — Their  Preachings  and  Persecutions — 
Wickliffe  and  the  Four  Regents. 

THUS  in  the  first  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  nearly  two 
hundred  years  before  the  Reformation,  England  appeared 
weary  of  the  yoke  of  Rome.  Bradwardine  was  no  more ; 
but  a  man  who  had  been  his  disciple  was  about  to  succeed 
him,  and  without  attaining  to  the  highest  functions,  to  ex- 
hibit in  his  person  the  past  and  future  tendencies  of  the 
church  of  Christ  in  Great  Britain.  The  English  Reforma- 
tion did  not  begin  with  Henry  VIII. :  the  revival  of  the 
sixteenth  century  is  but  a  link  in  the  chain  commencing 
with  the  apostles  and  reaching  to  us. 

The  resistance  of  Edward  III.  to  the  papacy  without  had 
not  suppressed  the  papacy  within.  The  mendicant  friars, 
and  particularly  the  Franciscans,  those  fanatical  soldiers  of 
the  pope,  were  endeavouring  by  pious  frauds  to  monopolize 
the  wealth  of  the  country.  "  Every  year,"  said  they,  "  Saint 
Francis  descends  from  heaven  to  purgatory,  and  delivers  the 
souls  of  all  those  who  were  buried  in  the  dress  of  his  order." 
These  friars  used  to  kidnap  children  from  their  parents  and 
shut  them  up  in  monasteries.  They  affected  to  be  poor,  and 
with  a  wallet  on  their  back,  begged  with  a  piteous  air  from 
both  high  and  low ;  but  at  the  same  time  they  dwelt  in 
palaces,  heaped  up  treasures,  dressed  in  costly  garments, 


84  INDIGNATION  AGAINST   THEIR   DISORDER 

and  wasted  their  time  in  luxurious  entertainmc.,  <£.*  The 
least  of  them  looked  upon  themselves  as  lords,  and  those 
who  wore  the  doctor's  cap  considered  themselves  kings. 
While  they  diverted  themselves,  eating  and  drinking  at 
their  well-spread  tables,  they  used  to  send  ignorant  un- 
educated persons  in  their  place  to  preach  fables  and  legends 
to  amuse  and  plunder  the  people. t  If  any  rich  man  talked 
of  giving  alms  to  the  poor  and  not  to  the  monks,  they  ex- 
claimed loudly  against  such  impiety,  and  declared  with 
threatening  voice  :  "  If  you  do  so  we  will  leave  the  country, 
and  return  accompanied  by  a  legion  of  glittering  helmets. "t 
Public  indignation  was  at  its  height.  "  The  monks  and 
priests  of  Rome,"  was  the  cry,  "  are  eating  us  away  like  a 

cancer.    God  must  deliver  us  or  the  people  will  perish 

Woe  be  to  them !  the  cup  of  wrath  will  run  over.  Men 
of  holy  church  shall  be  despised  as  carrion,  as  dogs  shall 
they  be  cast  out  in  open  places."^ 

The  arrogance  of  Rome  made  the  cup  run  over.  Pope 
Urban  V.,  heedless  of  the  laurels  Avon  by  the  conqueror  at 
Crecy  and  Poitiers,  summoned  Edward  III.  to  recognise 
him  as  legitimate  sovereign  of  England,  and  to  pay  as  feu- 
dal tribute  the  annual  rent  of  one  thousand  marcs.  In  case 
of  refusal  the  king  was  to  appear  before  him  at  Rome. 
For  thirty-three  years  the  popes  had  never  mentioned  the 
tribute  accorded  by  John  to  Innocent  III.,  and  which  had 
always  been  paid  very  irregularly.  The  conqueror  of  the 
Valois  was  irritated  by  this  insolence  on  the  part  of  an 
Italian  bishop,  and  called  on  God  to  avenge  England. 
From  Oxford  came  forth  the  avenger. 

John  Wickliffe,  born  in  1324,  in  a  little  village  in  York- 
shire, was  one  of  the  students  who  attended  the  lectures  of 
the  pious  Bradwardine  at  Merton  College.  He  was  in  the 
flower  of  his  age,  and  produced  a  great  sensation  in  the  uni- 
versity. In  1348,  a  terrible  pestilence,  which  is  said  to  have 

*  When  they  have  overmuch  riches,  both  in  great  waste  houses 
and  precious  clothes,  in  great  feasts  and  many  jewels  and  treasures. 
Wickliffe's  Tracts  and  Treatises,  edited  by  the  Wickliffe  Society,  p.  224. 

t  Ibidr  240.  t  Come  again  with  bright  heads.     Ibid. 

§  WickluTe,  The  Last  Age  of  the  Church. 


JOHN  WICKLIFFE.  85 

carried  off  half  the  human  race,  appeared  in  England  after 
successively  devastating  Asia  and  the  continent  of  Europe. 
This  visitation  of  the  Almighty  sounded  like  the  trumpet 
of  the  judgment-day  in  the  heart  of  Wickliffe.  Alarmed 
at  the  thoughts  of  eternity,  the  young  man — for  he  was 
then  only  twenty-four  years  old — passed  days  and  nights 
in  his  cell  groaning  and  sighing,  and  calling  upon  God  to 
show  him  the  path  he  ought  to  follow.*  He  found  it  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  resolved  to  make  it  known  to  others. 
He  commenced  with  prudence;  but  being  elected  in  1361 
warden  of  Balliol,  and  in  1365  warden  of  Canterbury  Col- 
lege also,  he  began  to  set  forth  the  doctrine  of  faith  in  a 
more  energetic  manner.  His  biblical  and  philosophical 
studies,  his  knowledge  of  theology,  his  penetrating  mind,  the 
purity  of  his  manners,  and  his  unbending  courage,  rendered 
him  the  object  of  general  admiration.  A  profound  teacher, 
like  his  master,  and  an  eloquent  preacher,  he  demonstrated 
to  the  learned  during  the  course  of  the  week  what  he  intended 
to  preach,  and  on  Sunday  he  preached  to  the  people  what  he 
had  previously  demonstrated.  His  disputations  gave  strength 
to  his  sermons,  and  his  sermons  shed  light  upon  his  dispu- 
tations. He  accused  the  clergy  of  having  banished  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  required  that  the  authority  of  the  word 
of  God  should  be  re-established  in  the  church.  Loud  accla- 
mations crowned  these  discussions,  and  the  crowd  of  vulgar 
minds  trembled  with  indignation  when  they  heard  these 
shouts  of  applause. 

Wickliffe  was  forty  years  old  when  the  papal  arrogance 
stirred  England  to  its  depths.  Being  at  once  an  able  politi- 
cian and  a  fervent  Christian,  he  vigorously  defended  the 
rights  of  the  crown  against  the  Romish  aggression,  and  by 
his  arguments  not  only  enlightened  his  fellow-countrymen 
generally,  but  stirred  up  the  zeal  of  several  members  of  both 
houses  of  parliament. 

The  parliament  assembled,  and  never  perhaps  had  it  been 
summoned  on  a  question  which  excited  to  so  high  a  degree 
the  emotions  of  England,  and  indeed  of  Christendom.  The 

*  Long  debating  and  deliberating  with  himself,  with  many  secret  sighs. 
Foxe,  Acts  and  Monument?,  i.  p.  485,  fol.  Loud.  1684. 


86         THE  LORDS  AGAINST  THE  PAPAL  TRIBUTE. 

debates  in  the  House  of  Lords  were  especially  remarkable  : 
all  the  arguments  of  Wickliffe  were  reproduced.  "  Feudal 
tribute  is  due,"  said  one,  "  only  to  him  who  can  grant  feudal 
protection  in  return.  Now  how  can  the  pope  wage  war  to 
protect  his  fiefs  ?" — "  Is  it  as  vassal  of  the  crown  or  as  feudal 
superior,"  asked  another,  "  that  the  pope  demands  part  of 
our  property  ?  Urban  V.  will  not  accept  the  first  of  these 

titles Well  and  good!  but  the  English  people  will  not 

acknowledge  the  second." — "  Why,"  said  a  third,  "  was  this 
tribute  originally  granted  ?  To  pay  the  pope  for  absolving 
John His  demand,  then,  is  mere  simony,  a  kind  of  cleri- 
cal swindling,  which  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal  should 
indignantly  oppose." — "  No,"  said  another  speaker,  "  England 
belongs  not  to  the  pope.  The  pope  is  but  a  man,  subject  to 
sin ;  but  .Christ  is  the  Lord  of  lords,  and  this  kingdom  is 
held  directly  and  solely  of  Christ  alone."*  Thus  spoke  the 
lords  inspired  by  Wickliffe.  Parliament  decided  unanimously 
that  no  prince  had  the  right  to  alienate  the  sovereignty  of 
the  kingdom  without  the  consent  of  the  other  two  estates, 
and  that  if  the  pontiff  should  attempt  to  proceed  against  the 
king  of  England  as  his  vassal,  the  nation  should  rise  in  a 
body  to  maintain  the  independence  of  the  crown. 
'  To  no  purpose  did  this  generous  resolution  excite  the 
wrath  of  the  partisans  of  Eome ;  to  no  purpose  did  they  as- 
sert that,  by  the  canon  law,  the  king  ought  to  be  deprived 
of  his  fief,  and  that  England  now  belonged  to  the  pope : 
"  No,"  replied  Wickliffe,  "  the  canon  law  has  no  force  when  it 
is  opposed  to  the  word  of  God."  Edward  III.  made  Wickliffe 
one  of  his  chaplains,  and  the  papacy  has  ceased  from  that 
hour  to  lay  claim — in  explicit  terms  at  least — to  the  sove- 
reignty of  England. 

When  the  pope  gave  up  his  temporal  he  was  desirous,  at 
the  very  least,  of  keeping  up  his  ecclesiastical  pretensions, 
and  to  procure  the  repeal  of  the  statutes  of  Prcemunire  and 
Provisors.  It  was  accordingly  resolved  to  hold  a  conference 

*  These  opinions  are  reported  by  Wickliffe,  in  a  treatise  preserved  in  the 
Selden  MSS.  and  printed  by  Mr  J.  Lewis,  in  his  History  of  Wickliffe, 
App.  No  30,  p.  349.  He  was  present  during  the  debate  ;  quam  audivi  in 
•juodam  concilia  a  dominis  secularibvs. 


AGREEMENT  OF  BRUGES COURTENAY  AND  LANCASTER.   87 

at  Bruges  to  treat  of  this  question,  and  Wickliffe,  who  had 
been  created  doctor  of  theology  two  years  before,  proceeded 
thither  with  the  other  commissioners  in  April  1374.  They 
came  to  an  arrangement  in  1375  that  the  king  should  bind 
himself  to  repeal  the  penalties  denounced  against  the  ponti- 
fical agents,  and  that  the  pope  should  confirm  the  king's 
ecclesiastical  presentations.*  But  the  nation  was  not  pleased 
with  this  compromise.  "  The  clerks  sent  from  Rome,"  said 
the  Commons,  "  are  more  dangerous  for  the  kingdom  than 
Jews  or  Saracens  ;  every  papal  agent  resident  in  England, 
and  every  Englishman  living  at  the  court  of  Rome,  should 
be  punished  with  death."  Such  was  the  language  of  the 
Good  Parliament.  In  the  fourteenth  century  the  English 
nation  called  a  parliament  good  which  did  not  yield  to  the 
papacy. 

Wickliffe,  after  his  return  to  England,  was  presented  to 
the  rectory  of  Lutterworth,  and  from  that  time  a  practical 
activity  was  added  to  his  academic  influence.  At  Oxford  he 
spoke  as  a  master  to  the  young  theologians ;  in  his  parish 
he  addressed  the  people  as  a  preacher  and  as  a  pastor. 
"  The  Gospel,"  said  he,  "  is  the  only  source  of  religion.  The 
Roman  pontiff  is  a  mere  cut-purse,f  and,  far  from  having 
the  right  to  reprimand  the  whole  world,  he  may  be  lawfully 
reproved  by  his  inferiors,  and  even  by  laymen." 

The  papacy  grew  alarmed.  Courtenay,  son  of  the  Earl  of 
Devonshire,  an  imperious  but  grave  priest,  and  full  of  zeal 
for  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth,  had  recently  been  ap- 
pointed to  the  see  of  London.  In  parliament  he  had  resisted 
Wickliffe's  patron,  John  of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancaster,  third 
son  of  Edward  III.,  and  head  of  the  house  of  that  name. 
The  bishop,  observing  that  the  doctrines  of  the  reformer 
were  spreading  among  the  people,  both  high  and  low, 
charged  him  with  heresy,  and  summoned  him  to  appear 
before  the  convocation  assembled  in  St  Paul's  Cathedral. 

On  the  19th  February  1377,  an  immense  crowd,  heated 
with  fanaticism,  thronged  the  approaches  to  the  church  and 

*  Rymer,  yii.  p.  33, 83-88. 

t  The  proud  worldly  priest  of  Rome,  and  the  most  cursed  of  clippers 
and  purse-kervers.  Lewis,  History  of  Wickliffe,  p.  37.  Oxford,  1820. 


88  WICKXIFFE  BEFORE  THE  CONVOCATION. 

filled  its  aisles,  while  the  citizens  favourable  to  the  Reform 
remained  concealed  in  their  houses.  Wickliffe  moved  for- 
ward, preceded  by  Lord  Percy,  marshal  of  England,  and  sup- 
ported by  the  Duke  of  Lancaster,  who  defended  him  from 
purely  political  motives.  He  was  followed  by  four  bachelors 
of  divinity,  his  counsel,  and  passed  through  the  hostile  mul- 
titude, who  looked  upon  Lancaster  as  the  enemy  of  their 
liberties,  and  upon  himself  as  the  enemy  of  the  church. 
11  Let  not  the  sight  of  these  bishops  make  you  shrink  a 
hair's  breadth  in  your  profession  of  faith,"  said  the  prince  to 
the  doctor.  "  They  are  unlearned ;  and  as  for  this  concourse 
of  people,  fear  nothing,  we  are  here  to  defend  you."*  When 
the  reformer  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  cathedral,  the 
crowd  within  appeared  like  a  solid  wall ;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing the  efforts  of  the  earl-marshal,  Wickliffe  and  Lancaster 
could  not  advance.  The  people  swayed  to  and  fro,  hands 
were  raised  in  violence,  and  loud  hootings  re-echoed  through 
the  building.  At  length  Percy  made  an  opening  in  the 
dense  multitude,  and  Wickliffe  passed  on. 

The  haughty  Courtenay,  who  had  been  commissioned  by 
the  archbishop  to  preside  over  the  assembly,  watched  these 
strange  movements  with  anxiety,  and  beheld  with  displeas- 
ure the  learned  doctor  accompanied  by  the  two  most  power- 
ful .men  in  England.  He  said  nothing  to  the  Duke  of  Lan- 
caster, who  at  that  time  administered  the  kingdom,  but  turn- 
ing towards  Percy  observed  sharply :  "  If  I  had  known,  my 
lord,  that  you  claimed  to  be  master  in  this  church,  I  would 
have  taken  measures  to  prevent  your  entrance."  Lancaster 
coldly  rejoined :  "  He  shall  keep  such  mastery  here,  though 
you  say  nay."  Percy  now  turned  to  Wickliffe,  who  had  re- 
mained standing,  and  said  :  "  Sit  down  and  rest  yourself." 
At  this  Courtenay  gave  way  to  his  anger,  and  exclaimed  in 
a  loud  tone :  "  He  must  not  sit  down ;  criminals  stand  be- 
fore their  judges."  Lancaster,  indignant  that  a  learned  doc- 
tor of  England  should  be  refused  a  favour  to  which  his  age 
alone  entitled  him  (for  he  was  between  fifty  and  sixty)  made 
answer  to  the  bishop :  "  My  lord,  you  are  very  arrogant ; 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  i.  p.  487,  fol.   Loud.  1684. 


ALTERCATION.  89 

take  care or  I  may  bring  down  your  pride,  and  not  yours 

only,  but  that  of  all  the  prelacy  in  England."* — "  Do  me  all 
the  harm  you  can,"  was  Courtenay's  haughty  reply.  The 
prince  rejoined  with  some  emotion  :  "  You  are  insolent,  my 
lord.  You  think,  no  doubt,  you  can  trust  on  your  family 

but  your  relations  will  have  trouble  enough  to  protect 

themselves."  To  this  the  bishop  nobly  replied :  "  My  con- 
fidence is  not  in  my  parents  nor  in  any  man ;  but  only  in 
God,  in  whom  I  trust,  and  by  whose  assistance  I  will  be  bold 
to  speak  the  truth."  Lancaster,  who  saw  hypocrisy  only  in 
these  words,  turned  to  one  of  his  attendants,  and  whispered 
in  his  ear,  but  so  loud  as  to  be  heard  by  the  bystanders  :  "  I 
would  rather  pluck  the  bishop  by  the  hair  of  his  head  out  of 
his  chair,  than  take  this  at  his  hands."  Every  impartial 
reader  must  confess  that  the  prelate  spoke  with  greater  dig- 
nity than  the  prince.  Lancaster  had  hardly  uttered  these 
imprudent  words  before  the  bishop's  partisans  fell  upon  him 
and  Percy,  and  even  upon  Wickliffe,  who  alone  had  remained 
calm.-j-  The  two  noblemen  resisted,  their  friends  and  ser- 
vants defended  them,  the  uproar  became  extreme,  and  there 
was  no  hope  of  restoring  tranquillity.  The  two  lords  escaped 
with  difficulty,  and  the  assembly  broke  up  in  great  confu- 
sion. 

On  the  following  day  the  earl-marshal  having  called  upon 
parliament  to  apprehend  the  disturbers  of  the  public  peace, 
the  clerical  party,  uniting  with  the  enemies  of  Lancaster, 
filled  the  streets  with  their  clamour ;  and  while  the  duke  and 
the  earl  escaped  by  the  Thames,  the  mob  collected  before 
Percy's  house  broke  down  the  doors,  searched  every  cham- 
ber, and  thrust  their  swords  into  every  dark  corner.  "When 
they  found  that  he  had  escaped,  the  rioters,  imagining  that 
he  was  concealed  in  Lancaster's  palace,  rushed  to  the  Savoy, 
at  that  time  the  most  magnificent  building  in  the  kingdom. 
They  killed  a  priest  who  endeavoured  to  stay  them,  tore 
down  the  ducal  arms,  and  hung  them  on  the  gallows  like 
those  of  a  traitor.  They  would  have  gone  still  farther  if  the 
bishop  had  not  very  opportunely  reminded  them  that  they 

•  Fuller,  Church  Hist.  cent.  xiv.  p.  135. 
t  Fall  furiously  on  the  lords.  Ibid.  136 
VOL.  V.  5 


90  RIOT WICKLIFFE  AT  LAMBETH. 

were  in  Lent.  As  for  "Wickliffe,  he  was  dismissed  with  an 
injunction  against  preaching  his  doctrines. 

But  this  decision  of  the  priests  was  not  ratified  by  the 
people  of  England.  Public  opinion  declared  in  favour  of 
Wickliffe.  "If  he  is  guilty,"  said  they,  "why  is  he  not 
punished  ?  If  he  is  innocent,  why  is  he  ordered  to  be  silent  ? 
If  he  is  the  weakest  in  power,  he  is  the  strongest  in  truth !" 
And  so  indeed  he  was,  and  never  had  he  spoken  with  such 
energy.  He  openly  attacked  the  pretended  apostolical  chair, 
and  declared  that  the  two  antipopes  who  sat  at  Rome  and 
Avignon  together  made  one  antichrist.  Being  now  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  pope,  Wickliffe  was  soon  to  confess  that  Christ 
alone  was  king  of  the  church  ;  and  that  it  is  not  possible  for 
a  man  to  be  excommunicated,  unless  first  and  principally  he 
be  excommunicated  by  himself.* 

Rome  could  not  close  her  ears.  Wickliffe's  enemies  sent 
thither  nineteen  propositions  which  they  ascribed  to  him, 
and  in  the  month  of  June  1377,  just  as  Richard  II.,  son  of 
the  Black  Prince,  a  child  eleven  years  old,  was  ascending 
the  throne,  three  letters  from  Gregory  XI.,  addressed  to  the 
king,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  university  of 
Oxford,  denounced  Wickliffe  as  a  heretic,  and  called  upon 
them  to  proceed  against  him  as  against  a  common  thief. 
The  archbishop  issued  the  citation  :  the  crown  and  the  uni- 
versity were  silent. 

On  the  appointed  day,  "Wickliffe,  unaccompanied  by  either 
Lancaster  or  Percy,  proceeded  to  the  archiepiscopal  chapel 
at  Lambeth.  "  Men  expected  he  should  be  devoured,"  says 
an  historian  ;  "being  brought  into  the  lion's  den."-}-  But 
the  burgesses  had  taken  the  prince's  place.  The  assault  of 
Rome  had  aroused  the  friends  of  liberty  and  truth  in  Eng- 
land. "  The  pope's  briefs,"  said  they,  "  ought  to  have  no 
effect  in  the  realm  without  the  king's  consent.  Every  man 
is  master  in  his  own  house." 

The  archbishop  had  scarcely  opened  the  sitting,  when  Sir 
Louis  Clifford  entered  the  chapel,  and  forbade  the  court,  on 
the  part  of  the  queen-mother,  to  proceed  against  the  re- 

*  Vaughan's  Wickliffe,  Appendix,  vol.  i.  p.  434. 
t  Fuller's  Church  Hist.  cent.  xiv.  p.  137. 


MISSION  OF  THE  POOR  PRIESTS.  91 

former.  The  bishops  were  struck  with  a  panic-fear ;  "  they 
bent  their  heads,"  says  a  Roman-catholic  historian,  "  like  a 
reed  before  the  wind."*  Wickliffe  retired  after  handing  in 
a  protest.  "  In  the  first  place,"  said  he,  "  I  resolve  with  my 
whole  heart,  and  by  the  grace  of  God,  to  be  a  sincere  Chris- 
tian ;  and,  while  my  life  shall  last,  to  profess  and  defend  the 
law  of  Christ  so  far  as  I  have  power." -j-  "Wickliffe's  enemies 
attacked  this  protest,  and  one  of  them  eagerly  maintained 
that  whatever  the  pope  ordered  should  be  looked  upon  as 
right.  "What!"  answered  the  reformer;  "the  pope  may 
then  exclude  from  the  canon  of  the  Scriptures  any  book  that 
displeases  him,  and  alter  the  Bible  at  pleasure?"  Wickliffe 
thought  that  Rome,  unsettling  the  grounds  of  infallibility, 
had  transferred  it  from  the  Scriptures  to  the  pope,  and  was 
desirous  of  restoring  it  to  its  true  place,  and  re-establishing 
authority  in  the  church  on  a  truly  divine  foundation. 

A  great  change  was  now  taking  place  in  the  reformer. 
Busying  himself  less  about  the  kingdom  of  England,  he 
occupied  himself  more  about  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  In  him 
the  political  phasis  was  followed  by  the  religious.  To  carry 
the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel  into  the  remotest  hamlets, 
was  now  the  great  idea  which  possessed  Wickliffe.  If 
begging  friars  (said  he|  stroll  over  the  country,  preaching 
the  legends  of  saints  and  the  history  of  the  Trojan  war,  we 
must  do  for  God's  glory  what  they  do  to  fill  their  wallets, 
and  form  a  vast  itinerant  evangelization  to  convert  souls  to 
Jesus  Christ.  Turning  to  the  most  pious  of  his  disciples, 
he  said  to  them  :  "  Go  and  preach,  it  is  the  sublimest  work  ; 
but  imitate  not  the  priests  whom  we  see  after  the  sermon 
sitting  in  the  alehouses,  or  at  the  gaming-table,  or  wasting 
their  time  in  hunting.  After  your  sermon  is  ended,  do  you 
visit  the  sick,  the  aged,  the  poor,  the  blind,  and  the  lame, 
and  succour  them  according  to  your  ability."  Such  was  the 
new  practical  theology  which  Wickliffe  inaugurated — it  was 
that  of  Christ  himself. 

*  Walsingham,  Hist.  Anglioe  Major,  p.  203. 

•f1  Propono  et  rolo  ease  ex  integro  Christianus,  et  quamdiu  manscrit  in 
me  halitus,  profitens  Yerbo  et  opere  legem  Christ!.  Vaughan's  Wickliffe, 
i.  D.  426. 


92  PREACHING  AND  PERSECUTION. 

The  "  poor  priests,"  as  they  were  called,  set  off  barefoot,  a 
staff  in  their  hands,  clothed  in  a  coarse  robe,  living  on  alms, 
and  satisfied  with  the  plainest  food.  They  stopped  in  the 
fields  near  some  village,  in  the  churchyards,  in  the  market- 
places of  the  towns,  and  sometimes  in  the  churches  even.* 
The  people,  among  whom  they  were  favourites,  thronged 
around  them,  as  the  men  of  Northumbria  had  done  at 
Aidan's  preaching.  They  spoke  with  a  popular  eloquence 
that  entirely  won  over  those  who  listened  to  them.  Of  these 
missionaries  none  was  more  beloved  than  John  Ashton. 
He  might  be  seen  wandering  over  the  country  in  every 
direction,  or  seated  at  some  cottage  hearth,  or  alone  in  some 
retired  crossway,  preaching  to  an  attentive  crowd.  Missions 
of  this  kind  have  constantly  revived  in  England  at  the  great 
epochs  of  the  church. 

The  "  poor  priests"  were  not  content  with  mere  polemics  : 
they  preached  the  great  mystery  of  godliness.  "  An  angel 
could  have  made  no  propitiation  for  man,"  one  day  exclaimed 
their  master  Wickliffe  ;  "  for  the  nature  which  has  sinned  is 
not  that  of  the  angels.  The  mediator  must  needs  be  a  man ; 
but  every  man  being  indebted  to  God  for  everything  that  he 
is  able  to  do,  this  man  must  needs  have  infinite  merit,  and 
be  at  the  same  time  God."-j-  % 

The  clergy  became  alarmed,  and  a  law  was  passed  com- 
manding every  king's  officer  to  commit  the  preachers  and  their 
followers  to  prison.^  In  consequence  of  this,  as  soon  as  the 
humble  missionary  began  to  preach,  the  monks  set  them- 
selves in  motion.  They  watched  him  from  the  windows  of 
their  cells,  at  the  street-corners,  or  from  behind  a  hedge,  and 
then  hastened  off  to  procure  assistance.  But  when  the 
constables  approached,  a  body  of  stout  bold  men  stood  forth, 
with  arms  in  their  hands,  who  surrounded  the  preacher,  and 
zealously  protected  him  against  the  attacks  of  the  clergy. 
Carnal  weapons  were  thus  mingled  with  the  preachings  of 
the  word  of  peace.  The  poor  priests  returned  to  their  mas- 
ter :  Wickliffe  comforted  them,  advised  with  them,  and  then 

*  A  private  statute  made  by  the  clergy.    Foxe,  Acts,  i.  p.  503. 
f  Exposition  of  the  Decalogue. 
J  Foxe,  Acts,  i.  p.  503. 


WICKLIFFE  AND  THE  FOUR  REGENTS.  93 

they  departed  once  more.  Every  day  this  evangelization 
reached  some  new  spot,  and  the  light  was  thus  penetrating 
into  every  quarter  of  England,  when  the  reformer  was  sud- 
denly stopped  in  his  work. 

Wickliffe  was  at  Oxford  in  the  year  1379,  busied  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duties  as  professor  of  divinity,  when  he  fell 
dangerously  ill.  His  was  not  a  strong  constitution ;  and 
work,  age,  and,  above  all,  persecution  had  weakened  him. 
Great  was  the  joy  in  the  monasteries ;  but  for  that  joy  to  be 
complete,  the  heretic  must  recant.  Every  effort  was  made 
to  bring  this  about  in  his  last  moments. 

The  four  regents,  who  represented  the  four  religious  orders, 
accompanied  by  four  aldermen,  hastened  to  the  bedside  of 
the  dying  man,  hoping  to  frighten  him  by  threatening  him 
with  the  vengeance  of  Heaven.  They  found  him  calm  and 
serene.  "  You  have  death  on  your  lips,"  said  they ;  "  be 
touched  by  your  faults,  and  retract  in  our  presence  all  that 
you  have  said  to  our  injury."  Wickliffe  remained  silent, 
and  the  monks  flattered  themselves  with  an  easy  victory. 
But  the  nearer  the  reformer  approached  eternity,  the  greater 
was  his  horror  of  monkery.  The  consolation  he  had  found 
in  Jesus  Christ  had  given  him  fresh  energy.  He  begged 
his  servant  to  raise  him  on  his  couch.  Then,  feeble  and 
pale,  and  scarcely  able  to  support  himself,  he  turned  to- 
wards the  friars,  who  were  waiting  for  his  recantation,  and 
opening  his  livid  lips,  and  fixing  on  them  a  piercing  look,  he 
said  with  emphasis  :  "  I  shall  not  die,  but  live  ;  and  again 
declare  the  evil  deeds  of  the  friars."  We  might  almost  pic- 
ture to  ourselves  the  spirit  of  Elijah  threatening  the  priests 
of  Baal.  The  regents  and  their  companions  looked  at  each 
other  with  astonishment.  They  left  the  room  in  confusion, 
and  the  reformer  recovered  to  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the 
most  important  of  his  works  against  the  monks  and  against 
the  pope.* 

*  Petrie's  Church  History,  i.  p.  604. 


94  THE  BIBLE. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Bible — Wickliffe's  Translation— Effects  of  its  Publication — Opposi- 
tion of  the  Clergy — Wickliffe's  Fourth  Phasis— Transubstantiation — 
Excommunication— Wickliffe's  Firmness — Wat  Tyler— The  Synod — 
The  Condemned  Propositions— Wickliffe's  Petition — Wickliffe  before 
the  Primate  at  Oxford — Wickliffe  summoned  to  Rome — His  Answer — 
The  Trialogue— His  Death — And  Character — His  Teaching — His  Ec- 
clesiastical Views — A  Prophecy. 

WICKLIFFE'S  ministry  had  followed  a  progressive  course. 
At  first  he  had  attacked  the  papacy ;  next  he  preached  the 
gospel  to  the  poor  ;  he  could  take  one  more  step  and  put  the 
people  in  permanent  possession  of  the  word  of  God.  This 
was  the  third  phase  of  his  activity. 

Scholasticism  had  banished  the  Scriptures  into  a  myste- 
rious obscurity.  It  is  true  that  Bede  had  translated  the 
Gospel  of  St  John ;  that  the  learned  men  at  Alfred's  court 
had  translated  the  four  evangelists  ;  that  Elfric  in  the  reign 
of  Ethelred  had  translated  some  books  of  the  Old  Testament; 
that  an  Anglo-Norman  priest  had  paraphrased  the  Gospels 
and  the  Acts ;  that  Richard  Rolle,  "  the  hermit  of  Ham- 
pole,"  and  some  pious  clerks  fn  the  fourteenth  century,  had 
produced  a  version  of  the  Psalms,  the  Gospels,  and  Epistles : 
—but  these  rare  volumes  were  hidden,  like  theological  cu- 
riosities, in  the  libraries  of  a  few  convents.  It  was  then  a 
maxim  that  the  reading  of  the  Bible  was  injurious  to  the 
laity ;  and  accordingly  the  priests  forbade  .it,  just  as  the 
Brahmins  forbid  the  Shasters  to  the  Hindoos.  Oral  tradi- 
tion alone  preserved  among  the  people  the  histories  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  mingled  with  legends  of  the  saints.  The 
time  appeared  ripe  for  the  publication  of  a  Bible.  The  in- 
crease of  population,  the  attention  the  English  were  be- 
ginning to  devote  to  their  own  language,  the  development 
which  the  system  of  representative  government  had  received, 
the  awakening  of  the  human  mind — all  these  circumstances 
favoured  the  reformer's  design. 


WICKL1FFE  TRANSLATES  THE  BIBLE.  95 

Wickliffe  was  ignorant  indeed  of  Greek  and  Hebrew ;  but 
was  it  nothing  to  shake  off  the  dust  which  for  ages  had 
covered  the  Latin  Bible,  and  to  translate  it  in-to  English  ? 
He  was  a  good  Latin  scholar,  of  sound  understanding,  and 
great  penetration ;  but  above  all  he  loved  the  Bible,  he  un- 
derstood it,  and  desired  to  communicate  this  treasure  to 
others.  Let  us  imagine  him  in  his  quiet  study:  on  his 
table  is  the  Vulgate  text,  corrected  after  the  best  manu- 
scripts ;  and  lying  open  around  him  are  the  commentaries 
of  the  doctors  of  the  church,  especially  those  of  St  Jerome 
and  Nicholas  Lyrensis.  Between  ten  and  fifteen  years  he 
steadily  prosecuted  his  task;  learned  men  aided  him  with 
their  advice,  and  one  of  them,  Nicholas  Hereford,  appears 
to  have  translated  a  few  chapters  for  him.  At  last  in  1380 
it  was  completed.  This  was  a  great  event  in  the  religious 
history  of  England,  who,  outstripping  the  nations  on  the 
continent,  took  her  station  in  the  foremost  rank  in  the  great 
work  of  disseminating  the  Scriptures. 

As  soon  as  the  translation  was  finished,  the  labour  of  the 
copyists  began,  and  the  Bible  was  erelong  widely  circulated 
either  wholly  or  in  portions.  The  reception  of  the  work 
surpassed  Wickliffe's  expectations.  The  Holy  Scriptures 
exercised  a  reviving  influence  over  men's  hearts ;  minds 
were  enlightened ;  souls  were  converted ;  the  voices  of  the 
"  poor  priests  "  had  done  little  in  comparison  with  this  voice; 
something  new  had  entered  into  the  world.  Citizens,  sol- 
diers, and  the  lower  classes  welcomed  this  new  era  with 
acclamations ;  the  high-born  curiously  examined  the  un- 
known book ;  and  even  Anne  of  Luxemburg,  wife  of  Richard 
II.,  having  learnt  English,  began  to  read  the  Gospels  dili- 
gently. She  did  more  than  this  :  she  made  them  known  to 
Arundel,  archbishop  of  York  and  chancellor,  and  afterwards 
a  persecutor,  but  who  now,  struck  at  the  sight  of  a  foreign 
lady — of  a  queen,  humbly  devoting  her  leisure  to  the  study 
of  such  virtuous  books*  commenced  reading  them  himself, 
and  rebuked  the  prelates  who  neglected  this  holy  pursuit. 
"  You  could  not  meet  two  persons  on  the  highway,"  says  a 

*  Foxe,  Acta,  i.  p.  578. 


96  OPPOSITION  OP  THE  CLERGY. 

contemporary  writer,  "  but  one  of  them  was  "Wickliffe's  dis- 
ciple." 

Yet  all  in  England  did  not  equally  rejoice :  the  lower 
clergy  opposed  this  enthusiasm  with  complaints  and  male- 
dictions. "  Master  John  Wickliffe,  by  translating  the  gos- 
pel into  English,"  said  the  monks,  "  has  rendered  it  more 
acceptable  and  more  intelligible  to  laymen  and  even  to 
women,  than  it  had  hitherto  been  to  learned  and  intelli- 
gent clerks  ! The  gospel  pearl  is  everywhere  cast  out  and 

trodden  under  foot  of  swine."  *  New  contests  arose  for  the 
reformer.  Wherever  he  bent  his  steps  he  was  violently 
attacked.  "  It  is  heresy,"  cried  the  monks,  "  to  speak  oi 
Holy  Scripture  in  English."  -{• — "  Since  the  church  has  ap- 
proved of  the  four  Gospels,  she  would  have  been  just  as  able 
to  reject  them  and  admit  others  !  The  church  sanctions  and 

condemns  what  she  pleases Learn  to  believe  in  the  church 

rather  than  in  the  gospel."  These  clamours  did  not  alarm 
Wickliffe.  "  Many  nations  have  had  the  Bible  in  their  own 
language.  The  Bible  is  the  faith  of  the  church.  Though  the 
pope  and  all  his  clerks  should  disappear  from  the  face  of 
the  earth,"  said  he,  "  our  faith  would  not  fail,  for  it  is 
founded  on  Jesus  alone,  our  Master  and  our  God."  But 
Wickliffe  did  not  stand  alone :  in  the  palace  as  in  the  cot- 
tage, and  even  in  parliament,  the  rights  of  Holy  Scripture 
found  defenders.  A  motion  having  been  made  in  the  Upper 
House  (1390)  to  seize  all  the  copies  of  the  Bible,  the  Duke 
of  Lancaster  exclaimed :  "  Are  we  then  the  very  dregs  of 
humanity,  that  we  cannot  possess  the  laws  of  our  religion 
in  our  own  tongue  ?"{ 

Having  given  his  fellow-countrymen  the  Bible,  Wickliffe 
began  to  reflect  on  its  contents.  This  was  a  new  step  in  his 
onward  path.  There  comes  a  moment  when  the  Christian, 
saved  by  a  lively  faith,  feels  the  need  of  giving  an  account 
to  himself  of  this  faith,  and  this  originates  the  science  of 

*  Evangelica  margarita  spargitur  et  a  porois  conculcatur.  Knyghton, 
De  eventibus  Angliae,  p.  264. 

f  It  is  heresy  to  speak  of  the  Holy  Scripture  in  English.  Wickliffo's 
Wicket,  p.  4.  Oxford,  1612,  quarto. 

J  Weber,  Akatholische  Kirchen,  i.  p.  81, 


FOURTH  PHASE  OF  WICKLIFFE.  97 

theology.  This  is  a  natural  movement :  if  the  child,  who  at 
first  possesses  sensations  and  affections  only,  feels  the  want, 
as  he  grows  up,  of  reflection  and  knowledge,  why  should  it 
not  be  the  same  with  the  Christian?  Politics — home  mis- 
sions— Holy  Scripture — had  engaged  Wickliffe  in  succes- 
sion ;  theology  had  its  turn,  and  this  was  the  fourth  phase  ot 
his  life.  Yet  he  did  not  penetrate  to  the  same  degree  as  the 
men  of  the  sixteenth  century  into  the  depths  of  the  Christian 
doctrine  ;  and  he  attached  himself  in  a  more  especial  manner 
to  those  ecclesiastical  dogmas  which  were  more  closely  con- 
nected with  the  presumptuous  hierarchy  and  the  simoniacal 
gains  of  Rome, — such  as  transubstantiation.  The  Anglo- 
Saxon  church  had  not  professed  this  doctrine.  "  The  host 
is  the  body  of  Christ,  not  bodily  but  spiritually ,"  said  Elfric 
in  the  tenth  century,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  the  Archbishop  of 
York ;  but  Lanfranc,  the  opponent  of  Berengarius,  had  taught 
England  that  at  the  word  of  a  priest  God  quitted  heaven  and 
descended  oa  the  altar.  Wickliffe  undertook  to  overthrow 
the  pedestal  on  which  the  pride  of  the  priesthood  was 
founded.  "  The  eucharist  is  naturally  bread  and  wine,"  he 
taught  at  Oxford  in  1381;  "but  by  virtue  of  the  sacra- 
mental words  it  contains  in  every  part  the  real  body  and 
blood  of  Christ."  He  did  not  stop  here.  "  The  consecrated 
wafer  which  we  see  on  the  altar,"  said  he,  "  is  not  Christ, 
nor  any  part  of  him,  but  his  efficient  sign."*  He  oscillated 
between  those  two  shades  of. doctrine;  but  to  the  first  he 
more  habitually  attached  himself.  He  denied  the  sacrifice 
of  the  mass  offered  by  the  priest,  because  it  was  substituted 
for  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross  offered  up  by  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
rejected  transubstantiation,  because  it  nullified  the  spiritual 
mid  living  presence  of  the  Lord. 

When  Wickliffe's  enemies  heard  these  propositions,  they 
appeared  horror-stricken,  and  yet  in  secret  they  were  de- 
lighted at  the  prospect  of  destroying  him.  They  met 
together,  examined  twelve  theses  he  had  published,  and  pro- 
nounced against  him  suspension  from  all  teaching,  imprison- 
ment, and  the  greater  excommunication.  At  the  same  time 

*  Efficax  cjus  signum.    Conclusio  1—  Vaughan,  ii.  p.  436,  App. 
5*  j, 


98  WICKLIFFE'S  FIRMNESS. 

his  friends  became  alarmed,  their  zeal  cooled,  and  many  of 
them  forsook  him.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster,  in  particular, 
could  not  follow  him  into  this  new  sphere.  That  prince  had 
no  objection  to  an  ecclesiastical  opposition  which  might  aid 
the  political  power,  and  for  that  purpose  he  had  tried  to  en- 
list the  reformer's  talents  and  courage ;  but  he  feared  a  dog- 
matic opposition  that  might  compromise  him.  The  sky  was 
heavy  with  clouds ;  "Wickliffe  was  alone. 

The  storm  soon  burst  upon  him.  One  day,  while  seated 
in  his  doctoral  chair  in  the  Augustine  school,  and  calmly  ex- 
plaining the  nature  of  the  eucharist,  an  officer  entered  the 
hall,  and  read  the  sentence  of  condemnation.  It  was  the 
design  of  his  enemies  to  humble  the  professor  in  the  eyes  of 
his  disciples.  Lancaster  immediately  became  alarmed,  and 
hastening  to  his  old  friend  begged  him — ordered  him  even — - 
to  trouble  himself  no  more  about  this  matter.  Attacked 
on  every  side,  "Wickliffe  for  a  time  remained  silent.  Shall 
he  sacrifice  the  truth  to  save  his  reputation — his  repose — 
perhaps  his  life  ?  Shall  expediency  get  the  better  of  faith, — 
Lancaster  prevail  over  Wicklitfe  ?  No :  his  courage  was 
invincible.  "  Since  the  year  of  our  Lord  1000,"  said  he, 
"  all  the  doctors  have  been  in  error  about  the  sacrament  of 
the  altar — except,  perhaps,  it  may  be  Berengarius.  How 
canst  tliou,  0  priest,  who  art  but  a  man,  make  thy  Maker  ? 
What !  the  thing  that  groweth  in  the  fields — that  ear  which 

thou  pluckest  to-day,  shall  be  God  to-morrow! As  you 

cannot  make  the  works  which  He  made,  how  shall  ye  make 
Him  who  made  the  works?*  Woe  to  the  adulterous  gene- 
ration that  believeth  the  testimony  of  Innocent  rather  than 
of  the  Gospel."f  Wickliffe  called  upon  his  adversaries  to 
refute  the  opinions  they  had  condemned,  and  finding  that 
they  threatened  him  with  a  civil  penalty  (imprisonment),  he 
appealed  to  the  king. 

The  time  was  not  favourable  for  such  an  appeal.  A  fatal 
circumstance  increased  Wickliffe's  danger.  Wat  Tyler  and 
a  dissolute  priest  named  Ball,  taking  advantage  of  the  ill- 

«  Wycleff's  Wyckett,  Tracts,  pp.  27C,  279. 

f  Vac  generation!  adulterse  quso  plus  credit  testimonio  Innocentii  quam 
ieusui  Evangelii.  Confessio,  Vaughanj  ii.  453,  A  pp.. 


.       THE  SYNOD CONDEMNED  PROPOSITIONS.  99 

will  excited  by  the  rapacity  and  brutality  of  the  royal  tax- 
gatherers,  had  occupied  London  with  100,000  men.  John 
Ball  kept  up  the  spirits  of  the  insurgents,  not  by  expositions 
of  the  gospel,  like  Wickliffe's  poor  priests,  but  by  fiery  com- 
ments on  the  distich  they  had  chosen  for  their  device  : — 

When  Adam  delved  and  Ere  span, 
Who  was  then  the  gentleman ! 

There  were  many  who  felt  no  scruple  in  ascribing  these  dis- 
orders to  the  reformer,  who  was  quite  innocent  of  them  ;  and 
Courtenay,  bishop  of  London,  having  been  translated  to  the 
see  of  Canterbury,  lost  no  time  in  convoking  a  synod  to  pro- 
nounce on  this  matter  of  Wickliffe's.  They  met  in  the 
middle  of  May,  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  were 
proceeding  to  pronounce  sentence  when  an  earthquake, 
which  shook  the  city  of  London  and  all  Britain,  so  alarmed 
the  members  of  the  council  that  they  unanimously  demanded 
the  adjournment  of  a  decision  which  appeared  so  manifestly 
rebuked  by  God.  But  the  archbishop  skilfully  turned  this 
strange  phenomenon  to  his  own  purposes :  "  Know  you  not," 
said  he,  "  that  the  noxious  vapours  which  catch  fire  in  the 
bosom  of  the  earth,  and  give  rise  to  these  phenomena 
which  alarm  you,  lose  all  their  force  when  they  burst  forth  ? 
Well,  in  like  manner,  by  rejecting  the  wicked  from  our  com- 
munity, we  shall  put  an  end  to  the  convulsions  of  the 
church."  The  bishops  regained  their  courage ;  and  one  of 
the  primate's  officers  read  ten  propositions,  said  to  be  Wick- 
liffe's, but  ascribing  to  him  certain  errors  of  which  he  was 
quite  innocent.  The  following  most  excited  the  anger  of  the 
priests  :  "  God  must  obey  the  devil.*  After  Urban  VI.  we 
must  receive  no  one  as  pope,  but  live  according  to  the 
manner  of  the  Greeks."  The  ten  propositions  were  con- 
demned as  heretical,  and  the  archbishop  enjoined  all  persons 
to  shun,  as  they  would  a  venomous  serpent,  all  who  should 
preach  the  aforesaid  errors.  "  If  we  permit  this  heretic  to 
appeal  continually  to  the  passions  of  the  people,"  said  the 

*  Quod  Deus  debet  obedire  diabolo.    Mansi,  xxvi.  p.  695.    Wickliflb 
denied  having  written  or  spoken  the  sentiment  here  ascribed  to  him. 


100  WICKLIFFE'S  PETITION. 

primate  to  the  king,  "our  destruction  is  inevitable.  We 
must  silence  these  lollards — these  psalm-singers."*  The 
king  gave  authority  "  to  confine  in  the  prisons  of  the  state 
any  who  should  maintain  the  condemned  propositions.1' 

Day  by  day  the  circle  contracted  around  Wickliffe.  The 
prudent  Repingdon,  the  learned  Hereford,  and  even  the  elo- 
quent Ashton,  the  firmest  of  the  three,  departed  from  him. 
The  veteran  champion  of  the  truth  which  had  once  gathered 
a  whole  nation  round  it,  had  reached  the  days  when  "  strong 
men  shall  bow  themselves,"  and  now,  when  harassed  by 
persecution,  he  found  himself  alone.  But  boldly  he  uplifted 
his  hoary  head  and  exclaimed :  "  The  doctrine  of  the  gospel 
shall  never  perish;  and  if  the  earth  once  quaked,  it  was 
because  they  condemned  Jesus  Christ." 

He  did  not  stop  here.  In  proportion  as  his  physical 
strength  decreased,  his  moral  strength  increased.  Instead 
of  parrying  the  blows  aimed  at  him,  he  resolved  on  dealing 
more  terrible  ones  still.  He  knew  that  if  the  king  and  the 
nobility  were  for  the  priests,  the  lower  house  and  the  citizens 
were  for  liberty  and  truth.  He  therefore  presented  a  bold 
petition  to  the  Commons  in  the  month  of  November  1382. 
"Since  Jesus  Christ  shed  his  blood  to  free  his  church,  ) 
demand  its  freedom.  I  demand  that  every  one  may  leave 
those  gloomy  walls  [the  convents],  within  which  a  tyran- 
nical law  prevails,  and  embrace  a  simple  and  peaceful  life 
under  the  open  vault  of  heaven.  I  demand  that  the  pool 
inhabitants  of  our  towns  and  villages  be  not  constrained  U 
furnish  a  worldly  priest,  often  a  vicious  man  and  a  heretic, 
with  the  means  of  satisfying  his  ostentation,  his  gluttony, 
and  his  licentiousness — of  buying  a  showy  horse,  costly 
saddles,  bridles  with  tinkling  bells,  rich  garments,  and  soft 
furs,  while  they  see  their  wives,  children,  and  neighbours, 
dying  of  hunger."-}-  The  House  of  Commons,  recollecting 
that  they  had  not  given  their  consent  to  the  persecuting 
statute  drawn  up  by  the  clergy  and  approved  by  the  king 


*  From  Mien  to  sing  ;  as  beggards  (beggars)  from  beggen.  ^ 

+  A  complaint  of  John  Wycleff.     Tracts  and  Treatises  edited  by  the 
Wlokliffe  Society,  p.  263, 


WICKLIFFE  BEFORE  THE  PRIMATE.  101 

and  the  lords,  demanded  its  repeal.  Was  the  Reformation 
about  to  begin  by  the  will  of  the  people  ? 

Courtenay,  indignant  at  this  intervention  of  the  Commons, 
and  ever  stimulated  by  a  zeal  for  his  church,  which  would 
have  been  better  directed  towards  the  word  of  God,  visited 
Oxford  in  November  1382,  and  having  gathered  round  him 
a  number  of  bishops,  doctors,  priests,  students,  and  laymen, 
summoned  Wickliffe  before  him.  Forty  years  ago  the  re- 
former had  come  up  to  the  university :  Oxford  had  become 
his  home and  now  it  was  turning  against  him  1  "Weak- 
ened by  labours,  by  trials,  by  that  ardent  soul  which  preyed 
upon  his  feeble  body,  he  might  have  refused  to  appear. 
But  Wickliffe,  who  never  feared  the  face  of  man,  came  be- 
fore them  with  a  good  conscience.  We  may  conjecture  that 
there  were  among  the  crowd  some  disciples  who  felt  their 
hearts  bum  at  the  sight  of  their  master;  but  no  outward 
sign  indicated  their  emotion.  The  solemn  silence  of  a  court 
of  justice  had  succeeded  the  shouts  of  enthusiastic  youths. 
Yet  Wickliffe  did  not  despair :  he  raised  his  venerable  head, 
and  turned  to  Courtenay  with  that  confident  look  which  had 
made  the  regents  of  Oxford  shrink  away.  Growing  wroth 
against  the  priests  of  Baal,  he  reproached  them  with  dis- 
seminating error  in  order  to  sell  their  masses.  Then  he 
stopped,  and  uttered  these  simple  aud  energetic  words: 
"  The  truth  shall  prevail ! "  *  Having  thus  spoken  he  pre- 
pared to  leave  the  court :  his  enemies  dared  not  say  a  word ; 
and,  like  his  divine  master  at  Nazareth,  he  passed  through 
the  midst  of  them,  and  no  man  ventured  to  stop  him.  He 
then  withdrew  to  his  cure  at  Lutterworth. 

He  had  not  yet  reached  the  harbour.  He  was  living 
peacefully  among  his  books  and  his  parishioners,  and  the 
priests  seemed  inclined  to  leave  him  alone,  when  another 
blow  was  aimed  at  him.  A  papal  brief  summoned  him  to 
Rome,  to  appear  before  that  tribunal  which  had  so  often 
shed  the  blood  of  its  adversaries.  His  bodily  infirmities 
convinced  him  that  he  could  not  obey  this  summons.  But 
if  Wickliffe  refused  to  hear  Urban,  Urban  could  not  choose 
but  hear  Wickliffe.  The  church  was  at  that  time  divided 
*  Finaliter  veritaa  vincet  eos.  Vaughan,  Appendix,  ii.  p.  453. 


102  WICKLUTE  SUMMONED  TO  ROME, 

between  two  chiefs :  France,  Scotland,  Savoy,  Lorraine, 
Castile,  and  Aragon  acknowledged  Clement  VII. ;  while 
Italy,  England,  Germany,  Sweden,  Poland,  and  Hungary 
acknowledged  Urban  VI.  Wickliffe  shall  tell  us  who  is  the 
true  head  of  the  church  universal.  And  while  the  two 
popes  were  excommunicating  and  abusing  each  other,  and 
selling  heaven  and  earth  for  their  own  gain,  the  reformer 
was  confessing  that  incorruptible  Word,  which  establishes 
real  unity  in  the  church.  "  I  believe,"  said  he,  "  that  the 
gospel  of  Christ  is  the  whole  body  of  God's  law.  I  believe 
that  Christ,  who  gave  it  to  us,  is  very  God  and  very  man, 
and  that  this  gospel  revelation  is,  accordingly,  superior  to 
all  oth*er  parts  of  Holy  Scripture.*  I  believe  that  the  bishop 
of  Rome  is  bound  more  than  all  other  men  to  submit  to  it, 
for  the  greatness  among  Christ's  disciples  did  not  consist  in 
worldly  dignity  or  honours,  but  in  the  exact  following  of 
Christ  in  his  life  and  manners.  No  faithful  man  ought  to 
follow  the  pope,  but  in  such  points  as  he  hath  followed 
Jesus  Christ.  The  pope  ought  to  leave  unto  the  secular 
power  all  temporal  dominion  and  rule :  and  thereunto  effec- 
tually more  and  more  exhort  his  whole  clergy If  I  could 

labour  according  to  my  desire  in  mine  own  person,  I  would 
surely  present  myself  before  the  bishop  of  Rome,  but  the 
Lord  hath  otherwise- visited  me  to  the  contrary,  and  hath 
taught  me  rather  to  obey  God  than  men."-{- 

Urban,  who  at  that  moment  chanced  to  be  very  busied  in 
his  contest  with  Clement,  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  begin 
another  with  Wickliffe,  and  so  let  the  matter  rest  there. 
From  this  time  the  doctor  passed  the  remainder  of  his  days 
in  peace  in  the  company  of  three  personages,  two  of  whom 
were  his  particular  friends,  and  the  third  his  constant  ad 
versary:  these  were  Aletheia,  Phronesis,  and  Pseudes.  Al- 
etheia  (truth)  proposed  questions  ;  Pseudes  (falsehood)  urged 

*  This  is  the  reading  of  the  Bodleian  manuscript—"  and  be  [by]  this  it 
passes  all  other  laws."  In  Foxe,  Wickliffe  appears  to  ascribe  to  Christ 
himself  this  superiority  over  all  Scripture, — a  distinction  hardly  in  the 
mind  of  the  reformer  or  of  his  age. 

f  An  Epistle  of  J.  Wickliffe  to  Pope  Urban  VI.  Foxe,  Acts,  i.  p.  507, 
fol.  Lond.  1684  ;  also  Lewis  (Wickliffe),  p.  333,  Append. 


THE  TRIALOGUE — DEATH  OP  WICKLTFFE.  103 

objections;  and  Phronesis  (understanding)  laid  down  the 
sound  doctrine.  These  three  characters  carried  on  a  con- 
versation (trialogue)  in  which  great  truths  were  boldly  pro- 
fessed. The  opposition  between  the  pope  and  Christ — be- 
tween the  canons  of  Romanism  and  the  Bible — was  painted 
in  striking  colours.  This  is  one  of  the  primary  truths  which 
the  church  must  never  forget.  "The  church  has  fallen," 
said  one  of  the  interlocutors  in  the  work  in  question,  "  be- 
cause she  has  abandoned  the  gospel,  and  preferred  the  laws 
of  the  pope.  Although  there  should  be  a  hundred  popes  in 
the  world  at  once,  and  all  the  friars  living  should  be  trans- 
formed into  cardinals,  we  must  withhold  our  confidence 
unless  so  far  as  they  are  founded  in  Holy  Scripture."* 

These  words  were  the  last  flicker  of  the  torch.  Wickliffe 
looked  upon  his  end  as  near,  and  entertained  no  idea  that  it 
would  come  in  peace.  A  dungeon  on  one  of  the  seven  hills, 
or  a  burning  pile  in  London,  was  all  he  expected.  "  Why 
do  you  talk  of  seeking  the  crown  of  martyrdom  afar?" 
asked  he.  "  Preach  the  gospel  of  Christ  to  haughty  prelates, 
and  martyrdom  will  not  fail  you.  What !  I  should  live  and 
be  silent? never!  Let  the  blow  fall,  I  await  its  com- 

ing-"t 

The  stroke  was  spared  him.  The  war  between  two 
wicked  priests,  Urban  and  Clement,  left  the  disciples  of  our 
Lord  in  peace.  And  besides,  was  it  worth  while  cutting 
short  a  life  that  was  drawing  to  a  close  ?  Wickliffe,  there- 
fore, continued  tranquilly  to  preach  Jesus  Christ;  and  on 
the  29th  December  1384,  as  he  was  in  his  church  at  Lutter- 
worth,  in  the  midst  of  his  flock,  at  the  very  moment  that  he 
stood  before  the  altar,  and  was  elevating  the  host  with 
trembling  hands,  he  fell  upon  the  pavement  struck  with 
paralysis.  He  was  carried  to  his  house  by  the  affectionate 
friends  around  him,  and  after  lingering  forty-eight  hours 
resigned  his  soul  to  God  on  the  last  day  of  the  year. 

Thus  was  removed  from  the  church  one  of  the  boldest 

V      *  Ideo  si  essent  centum  papa?,^t  omnes  fratres  essent  versi  in  cardi- 
nales,  non  deberet  concedi  sententise  suae  in  materia  fidei,  nisi  de  quanto 
so  fundaverint  in  Scriptnra.    Trialogus,  lib.  iv.  cap.  vii. 
f  Vaughan's  Life  of  Wickliffe,  ii.  p.  215,  257. 


104  WICKLIFFE'S  CHARACTER. 

witnesses  to  the  truth.  The  seriousness  of  his  language, 
the  holiness  of  his  life,  and  the  energy  of  his  faith,  had 
intimidated  the  popedom.  Travellers  relate  that  if  a  lion  is 
met  in  the  desert,  it  is  sufficient  to  look  steadily  at  him,  and 
the  beast  turns  away  roaring  from  the  eye  of  man.  Wick- 
liffe  had  fixed  the  eye  of  a  Christian  on  the  papacy,  and  the 
affrighted  papacy  had  left  him  in  peace.  Hunted  down  un- 
ceasingly  while  living,  he  died  in  quiet,  at  the  very  moment 
when  by  faith  he  was  eating  the  flesh  and  drinking  the 
blood  which  gave  eternal  life.  A  glorious  end  to  a  glorious 
life. 

The  Reformation  of  England  had  begun. 

Wickliffe  is  the  greatest  English  reformer  he  was  in 
truth  the  first  reformer  of  Christendom,  and  to  him,  under 
God,  Britain  is  indebted  for  the  honour  of  being  the  fore- 
most in  the  attack  upon  the  theocratic  system  of  Gregory 
VII.  The  work  of  the  Waldenses,  excellent  as  it  was,  can- 
not be  compared  to  his.  If  Luther  and  Calvin  are  the 
fathers  of  the  Reformation,  Wickliffe  is  its  grandfather. 

Wickliffe,  like  most  great  men,  possessed  qualities  which 
are  not  generally  found  together.  While  his  understanding 
was  eminently  speculative — his  treatise  on  the  Reality  of 
universal  Ideas*  made  a  sensation  in  philosophy — he  pos- 
sessed that  practical  and  active  mind  which  characterizes  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race.  As  a  divine,  he  was  at  once  scriptural 
and  spiritual,  soundly  orthodox,  and  possessed  of  an  inward 
and  lively  faith.  With  a  boldness  that  impelled  him  to  rush 
into  the  midst  of  danger,  he  combined  a  logical  and  consist- 
ent mind,  which  constantly  led  him  forward  in  knowledge, 
and  caused  him  to  maintain  with  perseverance  the  truths  he 
had  once  proclaimed.  First  of  all,  as  a  Christian,  he  had 
devoted  his  strength  to  the  cause  of  the  church;  but  he 
was  at  the  same  time  a  citizen,  and  the  realm,  his  nation, 
and  his  king,  had  also  a  great  share  in  his  unwearied  activity. 
He  was  a  man  complete. 

If  the  man  is  admirable,  his  teaching  is  no  less  so.  Scrip- 
ture, which  is  the  rule  of  truth,^hould  be  (according  to  his 
views)  the  rule  of  reformation,  and  we  must  reject  every 
*  Da  universalibus  realibus. 


• 
WICKLIFFE'S  TEACHING — HIS  ECCLESIASTICAL  VIEWS.   105 

doctrine  and  every  precept  which  does  not  rest  on  that 
foundation.*  To  believe  in  the  power  of  man  in  the  work 
of  regeneration  is  the  great  heresy  of  Rome,  and  from  that 
error  has  come  the  ruin  of  the  church.  Conversion  proceeds 
from  the  grace  of  God  alone,  and  the  system  which  ascribes 
it  partly  to  man  and  partly  to  God  is  worse  than  Pelagian- 
ism. -j-  Christ  is  everything  in  Christianity;  whosoever 
abandons  that  fountain  which  is  ever  ready  to  impart  life, 
and  turns  to  muddy  and  stagnant  waters,  is  a  madman.  J 
Faith  is  a  gift  of  God ;  it  puts  aside  all  merit,  and  should 
banish  all  fear  from  the  mind.  §  The  one  thing  needful  in 
the  Christian  life  and  in  the  Lord's  Supper  js  not  a  vain 
formalism  and  superstitious  rites,  but  communion  with 
Christ  according  to  the  power  of  the  spiritual  h'fe.  ||  Let 
Christians  submit  not  to  the  word  of  a  priest  but  to  the 
word  of  God.  In  the  primitive  church  there  were  but  two 
orders,  the  deacon  and  the  priest :  the  presbyter  and  the 
bishop  were  one.^[  The  sublimest  calling  which  man  can 
attain  on  earth  is  that  of  preaching  the  word  of  God.  The 
true  church  is  the  assembly  of  the  righteous  for  whom 
Christ  shed  his  blood.  So  long  as  Christ  is  in  heaven,  in 
Him  the  church  possesses  the  best  pope.  It  is  possible 
for  a  pope  to  be  condemned  at  the  last  day  because  of  his 
sins.  Would  men  compel  us  to  recognise  as  our  head  "  a 
devil  of  hell?"**  Such  were  the  essential  points  of  Wick- 
liffe's  doctrine.  It  was  the  echo  of  the  doctrine  of  the  apostles 
— the  prelude  to  that  of  the  reformers. 

In  many  respects  Wickliffe  is  the  Luther  of  England; 
but  the  times  of  revival  had  not  yet  come,  and  the  English 

*  Auctoritas  Scripturse  sacra,  qua  est  lex  Christ!,  infinitum  excedit 
quam  libet  scripturam  aliam.  Dialog.  [Trialogus]  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxx. ; 
see  in  particular  cap.  xxxi. 

+  Ibid,  de  prsedestinatione,  de  peccato,  de  gratia,  &c. 

t  Ibid.  lib.  iii.  cap.  xxx. 

§  Fidem  a  Deo  infusam  sine  aliqua  trepidatione  fidei  coutraria.  Ibid, 
lib.  ni.  cap.  ii. 

y      ||  Secundum  rationem  spiritualis  et  virtualis  existentise.    Ibid.  lib.  iv. 
cap.  viii. 

U  Fuit  idem  presbyter  atque  episcopns.   Ibid.  lib.  iv.  cap.  XT. 

**  Vaughan's  Life  of  Wickliffe,  ii.  p.  307.  The  Christian  public  Is  much 
Indebted  to  Dr  Vanghan  for  his  biography  of  this  reformer. 

•J 


106  A  PROPHECY. 

reformer  could  not  gain  such  striking  victories  over  Rome 
as  the  German  reformer.  While  Luther  was  surrounded  by 
an  ever-increasing  number  of  scholars  and  princes,  who  con- 
fessed the  same  faith  as  himself,  Wickliffe  shone  almost 
alone  in  the  firmament  of  the  church.  The  boldness  with 
which  he  substituted  a  living  spirituality  for  a  superstitions 
formalism,  caused  those  to  shrink  back  in  affright  who  had 
gone  with  him  against  friars,  priests,  and  popes.  Erelong 
the  Roman  pontiff  ordered  him  to  be  thrown  into  prison, 
and  the  monks  threatened  his  life;*  but  God  protected 
him,  and  he  remained  calm  amidst  the  machinations  of 
his  adversaries.  "  Antichrist,"  said  he,  "  can  only  kill  the 
body."  Having  one  foot  in  the  grave  already,  he  foretold 
that,  from  the  very  bosom  of  monkery,  would  some  day  pro- 
ceed the  regeneration  of  the  church.  "  If  the  friars,  whom 
God  condescends  to  teach,  shall  be  converted  to  the  prim- 
itive religion  of  Christ,"  said  he,  "  we  shall  see  them  aban- 
doning their  unbelief,  returning  freely,  'with  or  without  the 
permission  of  Antichrist,  to  the  primitive  religion  of  the 
Lord,  and  building  up  the  church,  as  did  St  Paul."-j- 

Thus  did  Wickliffe's  piercing  glance  discover,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  nearly  a  century  and  a  half,  the  young  monk 
Luther  in  the  Augustine  convent  at  Erfurth,  converted  by 
the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  and  returning  to  the  spirit 
of  St  Paul  and  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.  Time  was 
hastening  on  to  the  fulfilment  of  this  prophecy.  "  The 
rising  sun  of  the  Reformation,"  for  so  has  Wickliffe  been 
called,  had  appeared  above  the  horizon,  and  its  beams  were 
no  more  to  be  extinguished.  In  vain  will  thick  clouds  veil 
it  at  times;  the  distant  hill-tops  of  Eastern  Europe  will 
soon  reflect  its  rays ;  ^  and  its  piercing  light,  increasing  in 
brightness,  will  pour  over  all  the  world,  at  the  hour  of  the 
church's  renovation,  floods  of  knowledge  and  of  life. 

*  Multitude  fratrum  mortem  tuam  multipliciter  machinantur.  Dialog., 
lib.  iv.  cap.  iv. 

t  Aliqui  fratres  quos  Deus  docere  dignatur relicta  sua  perfidia 

redibunt  libere  ad  religionem  Christi  primaevam,  et  tune  sedificabunt  eo- 
•lesiam,  sicut  Paulus.  Ibid.,  lib.  iv.  cap.  xxx. 

J  John  Husa  in  Bohemia. 


THE  WICKLHTITES.  107 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Wickliffitea— Call  for  Reform— Richard  II.— The  First  Martyr- 
Lord  Cobham — Appears  before  Henry  V. — Before  the  Archbishop — 
His  Confession  and  Death— The  Lollards. 

WICKLIFFE'S  death  manifested  the  power  of  his  teaching. 
The  master  being  removed,  his  disciples  set  their  hands  to 
the  plough,  and  England  was  almost  won  over  to  the  re- 
former's doctrines.  The  Wickliffites  recognised  a  ministry 
independent  of  Rome,  and  deriving  authority  from  the  word 
of  God  alone.  "  Every  minister,"  said  they,  "  can  admini- 
ster the  sacraments  and  confer  the  cure  of  souls  as  well  as 
the  pope."  To  the  licentious  wealth  of  the  clergy  they 
opposed  a  Christian  poverty,  and  to  the  degenerate  asceticism 
of  the  mendicant  orders,  a  spiritual  and  free  life.  The 
townsfolk  crowded  around  these  humble  preachers ;  the  sol- 
diers listened  to  them,  armed  with  sword  and  buckler  to 
defend  them  ;*  the  nobility  took  down  the  images  from  their 
baronial  chapels  ;f  and  even  the  royal  family  was  partly 
won  over  to  the  Reformation.  England  was  like  a  tree  cut 
down  to  the  ground,  from  whose  roots  fresh  buds  are  shoot- 
ing out  on  every  side,  erelong  to  cover  all  the  earth  beneath 
their  shade4 

This  augmented  the  courage  of  "Wickliffe's  disciples,  and 
in  many  places  the  people  took  the  initiative  in  the  reform. 
The  walls  of  St  Paul's  and  other  cathedrals  were  hung  with 
placards  aimed  at  the  priests  and  friars,  and  the  abuses  of 
which  they  were  the  defenders;  and  in  1395  the  friends  of 

*  Assistere  solent  gladio  et  pelta  stipati  ad  eorum  defensionem.  Knygh- 
ton,  lib.  v.  p.  2660. 

f  Milites  cum  ducibus  et  comitibus  erant  prsecipue  eis  adhaerentes. 
Ibid. 

£  Quasi  germinantes  multiplicati  sunt  nimis  et  impleverunt  ubique 
orbemregni.  Ibid.  These  "  ConclurioneJ'  are  reprinted  by  Lewi»(Wick- 
liffc),  p.  337. 


108  CALL  FOE  REFORM. 

• 

the  Gospel  petitioned  parliament  for  a  general  reform.  "  The 
essence  of  the  worship  which  comes  from  Rome,"  said  they, 
consists  in  signs  and  ceremonies,  and  not  in  the  efficacity  of 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  therefore  it  is  not  that  which  Christ 
has  ordained.  Temporal  things  are  distinct  from  spiritual 
things :  a  king  and  a  bishop  ought  not  to  be  one  and  the 
same  person."  *  And  then,  from  not  clearly  understanding 
the  principle  of  the  separation  of  the  functions  which  they 
proclaimed,  they  called  upon  parliament  to  "  abolish  celi- 
bacy, transubstantiation,  prayers  for  the  dead,  offerings  to 
images,  auricular  confession,  war,  the  arts  unnecessary  to 
life,  the  practice  of  blessing  oil,  salt,  wax,  incense,  stones, 
mitres,  and  pilgrims'  staffs.  All  these  pertain  to  necro- 
mancy and  not  to  theology."  Emboldened  by  the  absence 
of  the  king  in  Ireland,  they  fixed  their  Twelve  Conclusions 
on  the  gates  of  St  Paul's  and  Westminster  Abbey.  This 
became  the  signal  for  persecution. 

As  soon  as  Arundel,  archbishop  of  York,  and  Braybrooke, 
bishop  of  London,  had  read  these  propositions,  they  hastily 
crossed  St  George's  Channel,  and  conjured  the  king  to  return 
to  England.  The  prince  hesitated  not  to  comply,  for  his 
wife,  the  pious  Anne  of  Luxemburg,  was  dead.  Richard, 
during  childhood  and  youth,  had  been  committed  in  succes- 
sion to  the  charge  of  several  guardians,  and  like  children 
(says  an  historian),  whose  nurses  have  been  often  changed, 
he  thrived  none  the  better  for  it.  He  did  good  or  evil, 
according  to  the  influence  of  those  around  him,  and  had  no 
decided  inclinations  except  for  ostentation  and  licentious- 
ness. The  clergy  were  not  mistaken  in  calculating  on  such 
a  prince.  On  his  return  to  London  he  forbade  the  parlia- 
ment to  take  the  Wickliffite  petition  into  consideration ;  and 
having  summoned  before  him  the  most  distinguished  of  its 
supporters,  such  as  Story,  Clifford,  Latimer,  and  Montacute, 
he  threatened  them  with  death  if  they  continued  to  defend 
their  abominable  opinions.  Thus  was  the  work  of  the  re- 
former about  to  be  destroyed. 

But  Richard  had  hardly  withdrawn  his  hand  from  the 
gospel,  when  God  (says  the  annalist)  withdrew  his  hand 

*  Rex  et  episcopus  in  una  persona,  &c.    Knyghton,  lib.  v.  p.  2660. 


HENRY  IV. — THE  FIRST  MARTYR.  109 

from  him.*  His  cousin,  Henry  of  Hereford,  son  of  the  fa- 
mous duke  of  Lancaster,  and  who  had  been  banished  from 
England,  suddenly  sailed  from  the  continent,  landed  in  York- 
shire, gathered  all  the  malcontents  around  him,  and  was  ac- 
knowledged king.  The  unhappy  Richard,  after  being  for- 
mally deposed,  was  confined  in  Pontefract  castle,  where  he 
soon  terminated  his  earthly  career. 

The  son  of  Wickliffe's  old  defender  was  now  king :  a  re- 
form of  the  church  seemed  imminent ;  but  the  primate  Amn- 
del  had  foreseen  the  danger.  This  cunning  priest  and  skil- 
ful politician  had  observed  which  way  the  wind  blew,  and 
deserted  Richard  hi  good  time.  Taking  Lancaster  by  the 
hand,  he  put  the  crown  on  his  head,  saying  to  him :  "  To 
consolidate  your  throne,  conciliate  the  clergy,  and  sacrifice 
the  Lollards." — "  I  will  be  the  protector  of  the  church,"  re- 
plied Henry  IV.,  and  from  that  hour  the  power  of  the  priests 
was  greater  than  the  power  of  the  nobility.  Rome  has  ever 
been  adroit  in  profiting  by  .revolutions. 

Lancaster,  in  his  eagerness  to  show  his  gratitude  to  the 
priests,  ordered  that  every  incorrigible  heretic  should  be 
burnt  alive,  to  terrify  his  companions.f  Practice  followed 
close  upon  the  theory.  A  pious  priest  named  William  Saw- 
tre  had  presumed  to  say  :  "  Instead  of  adoring  the  cross  on 
which  Christ  suffered,  I  adore  Christ  who  suffered  on  it."J 
He  was  dragged  to  St  Paul's ;  his  hair  was  shaved  off;  a 
layman's  cap  was  placed  on  his  head;  and  the  primate 
handed  him  over  to  the  mercy  of  the  earl-marshal  of  England. 
This  mercy  was  shown  him — he  was  burnt  alive  at  Smith- 
field  in  the  beginning  of  March  1401.  Sawtre  was  the  first 
martyr  to  protestantism. 

Encouraged  by  this  act  of  faith— this  auto  da  /e— the 
clergy  drew  up  the  articles  known  as  the  "  Constitutions  of 
Arundel,"  which  forbade  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  and  styled 
the  pope,  "not  a  mere  man,  but  a  true  God."§  The  L  - 
lards'  tower,  in  the  archiepiscopal  palace  of  Lambeth,  was 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  i.  p.  584,  fol.  Lend.  1684. 

+  Ibid.  p.  586.  This  is  the  statute  known  as  2  Henry  IV.  c.  15,  the  first 
actual  law  in  England  against  heresy. 

J  Ibid.  p.  589. 

§  Not  of  pure  man  but  of  true  God,  hare  in  earth.    Ibid.  p.  596. 


110.  PERSECUTION — LORD  COBHAM. 

soon  filled  with  pretended  heretics,  many  of  whom  carved 
on  the  walls  of  their  dungeons  the  expression  of  their  sor- 
row and  their  hopes :  Jesus  amor  meus,  wrote  one  of  them.* 
To  crush  the  lowly  was  not  enough :  the  Gospel  must  be 
driven  from  the  more  exalted  stations.  The  priests,  who 
were  sincere  in  their  belief,  regarded  those  noblemen  as  mis- 
leaders  who  set  the  word  of  God  above  the  laws  of  Rome, 
and  accordingly  they  girded  themselves  for  the  work.  A  few 
miles  from  Rochester  stood  Cowling  Castle,  in  the  midst 
of  the  fertile  pastures  watered  by  the  Medway, 

The  fair  Medwaya  that  with  wanton  pride 
Forms  silver  mazes  with  her  crooked  tide.t 

In  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century  it  was  inhabited  by 
Sir  John  Oldcastle,  Lord  Cobham,  a  man  in  high  favour 
with  the  king.  The  "  poor  priests"  thronged  to  Cowling  in 
quest  of  Wickliffe's  writings,  of  which  Cobham  had  caused 
numerous  copies  to  be  made,  and  whence  they  were  circu- 
lated through  the  dioceses  of  Canterbury,  Rochester,  Lon- 
don, and  Hertford.  Cobham  attended  their  preaching,  and 
if  any  enemies  ventured  to  interrupt  them,  he  threatened 
them  with  his  sword.j:  "  I  would  sooner  risk  my  life,"  said 
he,  "  than  submit  to  such  unjust  decrees  as  dishonour  the 
everlasting  Testament."  The  king  would  not  permit  the 
clergy  to  lay  hands  on  his  favourite. 

But  Henry  V.  having  succeeded  his  father  in  1413,  and 
passed  from  the  houses  of  ill-fame  he  had  hitherto  frequent- 
ed, to  the  foot  of  the  altars  and  the  head  of  the  armies,  the 
archbishop  immediately  denounced  Cobham  to  him,  and  he 
was  summoned  to  appear  before  the  king.  Sir  John  had 
understood  Wickliffe's  doctrine,  and  experienced  in  his  own 
person  the  might  of  the  divine  Word.  "  As  touching  the 
pope  and  his  spirituality,"  he  said  to  the  king,  "  I  owe  them 
neither  suit  nor  service,  forasmuch  as  I  know  him  by  the 

*  "  Jesus  is  my  love."    These  words  are  still  to  be  read  in  the  tower. 

•f  Blackmore. 

i  Eorum  prsedicationibus  nefariis  interfuit,  et  contradictores,  si  quos 
repererat,  minis  et  terroribus  et  gladii  secularis  potentia  compescuit. 
Rymer,  Fcedera,  torn.  iv.  pars  2,  p.  50. 


COBHAM  BEFORE  THE  ARCHBISHOP.          Ill 

Scriptures  to  be  the  great  antichrist."*  Henry  thrust  aside 
Cobham's  hand  as  he  presented  his  confession  of  faith  :  "  I 
will  not  receive  this  paper,  lay  it  before  your  judges."  When 
he  saw  his  profession  refused,  Cobham  had  recourse  to  the 
only  arm  which  he  knew  of  out  of  the  gospel.  The  differences 
which  we  now  settle  by  pamphlets  were  then  very  com- 
monly settled  by  the  sword : — "  I  offer  in  defence  of  my 
faith  to  fight  £pr  life  or  death  with  any  man  living,  Christian 
or  pagan,  always  excepting  your  majesty."  f  Cobham  was 
led  to  the  Tower. 

On  the  23d  September  1413,  he  was  taken  before  the 
ecclesiastical  tribunal  then  sitting  at  St  Paul's.  "  We  must 
believe,"  said  the  primate  to  him,  "  what  the  holy  church  of 
Rome  teaches,  without  demanding  Christ's  authority." — 
"Believe!"  shouted  the  priests,  "believe!" — "I  am  willing 
to  believe  all  that  God  desires,"  said  Sir  John ;  "  but  that 
the  pope  should  have  authority  to  teach  what  is  contrary  to 
Scripture — that  I  can  never  believe."  He  was  led  back  to 
the  Tower.  The  word  of  God  was  to  have  its  martyr. 

On  Monday,  25th  September,  a  crowd  of  priests,  canons, 
friars,  clerks,  and  indulgence-sellers,  thronged  the  large  hall 
of  the  Dominican  convent,  and  attacked  Lord  Cobham  with 
abusive  language.  These  insults,  the  importance  of  the 
moment  for  the  Reformation  of  England,  the  catastrophe 
that  must  needs  close  the  scene  :  all  agitated  his  soul  to  its 
very  depths.  When  the  archbishop  called  upon  him  to 
confess  his  offence,  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  lifting  up  his 
hands  to  heaven,  exclaimed :  "  I  confess  to  Thee,  0  God ! 
and  acknowledge  that  in  my  frail  youth  I  seriously  offended 
Thee  by  my  pride,  anger,  intemperance,  and  impurity :  for 
these  offences  I  implore  thy  mercy!"  Then  standing  up, 
his  face  still  wet  with  tears,  he  said :  "  I  ask  not  your  abso- 
lution :  it  is  God's  only  that  I  need."J  The  clergy  did  not 
despair,  however,  of  reducing  this  high-spirited  gentleman : 
they  knew  that  spiritual  strength  is  not  always  conjoined 
with  bodily  vigour,  and  they  hoped  to  vanquish  by  priestly 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  rol.  i.  p.  636,  fol.  f  Ibid.  p.  637. 

J  Quod  nullam  absolutionem  iu  hac  parte  peterot  a  nobis,  sed  a  solo 
Deo.  Rymer,  Fcedera,  p.  51. 


112  LORD  COBHAM'S  DEATH. 

sophisms  the  man  who  dared  challenge  the  papal  champions 
to  single  combat.  "  Sir  John,"  said  the  primate  at  last, 
"  you  have  said  some  very  strange  things :  we  have  spent 
much  time  in  endeavours  to  convince  you,  but  all  to  no 
effect.  The  day  passeth  away :  you  must  either  submit 

yourself  to  the  ordinance  of  the  most  holy  church " — "  I 

will  none  otherwise  believe  than  what  I  have  told  you.  Do 
with  me  what  you  will." — "  "Well  then,  we  must  needs  do 
the  law,"  the  archbishop  made  answer. 

Arundel  stood  up;  all  the  priests  and  people  rose  with 
him  and  uncovered  their  heads.  «Then  holding  the  sentence 
of  death  in  his  hand,  he  read  it  with  a  loud  clear  voice.  "  It 
is  well,"  said  Sir  John ;  "  though  you  condemn  my  body, 
you  can  do  no  harm  to  my  soul,  by  the  grace  of  my  eternal 
God."  He  was  again  led  back  to  the  Tower,  whence  he 
escaped  one  night,  and  took  refuge  in  Wales.  He  was  re- 
taken in  December  1417,  carried  to  London,  dragged  on  a 
hurdle  to  Saint  Giles's  fields,  and  there  suspended  by  chains 
over  a  slow  fire,  and  cruelly  burned  to  death.  Thus  died  a 
Christian,  illustrious  after"  the  fashion  of  his  age — a  cham- 
pion of  the  word  of  God.  The  London  prisons  were  filled 
with  Wickliffites,  and  it  was  decreed  that  they  should  be 
hung  on  the  king's  account,  and  burnt  for  God's.* 

The  intimidated  Lollards  were  compelled  to  hide  them- 
selves in  the  humblest  ranks  of  the  people,  and  to  hold  their 
meetings  in  secret.  The  work  of  redemption  was  proceed- 
ing noiselessly  among  the  elect  of  God.  Of  these  Lollards, 
there  were  many  who  had  been  redeemed  by  Jesus  Christ ; 
but  in  general  they  knew  not,  to  the  same  extent  as  the 
evangelical  Christians  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  quick- 
ening and  justifying  power  of  faith.  They  were  plain, 
meek,  and  often  timid  folks,  attracted  by  the  word  of  God, 
affected  at  the  condemnation  it  pronounces  against  the  errors 
of  Rome,  and  desirous  of  living  according  to  its  command- 
ments. God  had  assigned  them  a  part — and  an  important 
part  too — in  the  great  transformation  of  Christianity.  Their 
humble  piety,  their  passive  resistance,  the  shameful  treat- 

*  Incendio  propter  Deum,  suspendio  propter  regem.  Thorn.  Walden- 
sis  in  proemio.  Raynald,  ann.  1414.  No  16. 


LEARNING  AT  FLORENCE.  113 

ment  which  they  bore  with  resignation,  the  penitent's  robes 
with  which  they  were  covered,  the  tapers  they  were  com- 
pelled to  hold  at  the  church-door — all  these  things  betrayed 
the  pride  of  the  priests,  and  filled  the  most  generous  minds 
with  doubts  and  vague  desires.  By  a  baptism  of  suffering, 
God  was  then  preparing  the  way  to  a  glorious  reformation. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Learning  at  Florence — The  Tudors— Erasmus  visits  England— Sir 
Thomas  More — Dean  Colet  —  Erasmus  and  young  Henry — Prince 
Arthur  and  Catherine— Marriage  and  Death— Catherine  betrothed  to 
Henry — Accession  of  Henry  VIII. — Enthusiasm  of  the  Learned — 
Erasmus  recalled  to  England — Cromwell  before  the  Pope — Catherine 
proposed  to  Henry — Their  Marriage  and  Court — Tournaments — 
Henry's  Danger. 

THIS  reformation  was  to  be  the  result  of  two  distinct  forces 
— the  revival  of  learning  and  the  resurrection  of  the  word 
of  God.  The  latter  was  the  principal  cause,  but  the  former 
was  necessary  as  a  means.  Without  it  the  living  waters  ot 
the  gospel  would  probably  have  traversed  the  age,  like 
summer  streams  which  soon  dry  up,  such  as  those  which 
had  burst  forth  "here  and  there  during  the  middle  ages ;  it 
would  not  have  become  that  majestic  river,  which,  by  its 
inundations,  fertilized  all  the  earth.  It  was  necessary  to 
discover  and  examine  the  original  fountains,  and  for  this  end 
the  study  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  was  indispensable.  Lol- 
lardism  and  humanism  (the  study  of  the  classics)  were  the 
two  laboratories  of  the  reform.  We  have  seen  the  prepara- 
tions of  the  one,  we  must  now  trace  the  commencement  of 
the  other ;  and  as  we  have  discovered  the  light  in  the  lowly 
valleys,  we  shall  discern  it  also  on  the  lofty  mountain  tops. 
About  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  several  young 
Englishmen  chanced  to  be  at  Florence,  attracted  thither  by 

<he  literary  glory  which  environed  the  city  of  the  Medici. 
VOL.  v.  6 


114          A  NEW  DYNASTY — THE  TUDORS. 

Cosmo  had  collected  together  a  great  number  of  works  of 
antiquity,  and  his  palace  was  thronged  with  learned  men. 
William  Selling,  a  young  English  ecclesiastic,  afterwards 
distinguished  at  Canterbury  by  his  zeal  in  collecting  valu- 
able manuscripts;  his  fellow-countrymen,  Grocyn,  Lilly, 
and  Latimer  "more  bashful  than  a  maiden;"*  and,  above 
all,  Linacre,  whom  Erasmus  ranked  before  all  the  scholars 
of  Italy, — used  to  meet  in  the  delicious  villa  of  the  Medici 
with  Politian,  Chalcondyles,  and  other  men  of  learning ;  and 
there,  in  the  calm  evenings  of  summer,  under  that  glorious 
Tuscan  sky,  they  dreamt  romantic  visions  of  the  Platonic 
philosophy.  When  they  returned  to  England,  these  learned 
men  laid  before  the  youth  of  Oxford  the  marvellous  treasures 
of  the  Greek  language.  Some  Italians  even,  attracted  by 
the  desire  to  enlighten  the  barbarians,  and  a  little,  it  may 
be,  by  the  brilliant  offers  made  them,  quitted  their  beloved 
country  for  the  distant  Britain.  Cornelius  Vitelli  taught  at 
Oxford,  and  Caius  Amberino  at  Cambridge.  Caxton  imported 
the  art  of  printing  from  Germany,  and  the  nation  hailed 
with  enthusiasm  the  brilliant  dawn  which  was  breaking  at 
last  in  their  cloudy  sky. 

While  learning  was  reviving  in  England,  a  new  dynasty 
succeeded  to  the  throne,  bringing  with  it  that  energy  of 
character  which  of  itself  is  able  to  effect  great  revolutions ; 
the  Tudors  succeeded  the  Plantagenets.  That  inflexible  in- 
trepidity by  which  the  reformers  of  Germany,  Switzerland, 
France,  and  Scotland  were  distinguished,  did  not  exist  so 
generally  in  those  of  England  ;  but  it  was  found  in  the  char- 
acter of  her  kings,  who  often  stretched  it  even  to  violence. 
It  may  be  that  to  this  preponderance  of  energy  in  its  rulers, 
the  church  owes  the  preponderance  of  the  state  in  its  affairs. 

Henry  Tudor,  the  Louis  XL  of  England,  was  a  clever 
prince,  of  decided  but  suspicious  character,  avaricious  and 
narrow-minded.  Being  descended  from  a  Welsh  family,  he 
belonged  to  that  ancient  race  of  Celts  who  had  so  long  con- 
tended against  the  papacy.  Henry  had  extinguished  fac- 
tion at  home,  and  taught  foreign  nations  to  respect  his 
power.  A  good  genius  seemed  to  exercise  a  salutary  influ- 
*  Fudorem  plus  quam  virgineum.  Erasm.  Ep.  i.  p.  525. 


ERASMUS  IN  ENGLAND.  115 

encc  over  his  court  as  well  as  over  himself :  this  was  his 
mother,  the  countess  of  Richmond.  From  her  closet,  where 
she  consecrated  the  first  five  hours  of  the  day  to  reading, 
meditation,  and  prayer,  she  moved  to  another  part  of  the 
palace  to  dress  the  wounds  of  some  of  the  lowest  mendi- 
cants ;  thence  she  passed  into  the  gay  saloons,  where  she 
would  converse  with  the  scholars,  whom  she  encouraged 
by  her  munificence.  This  noble  lady's  passion  for  study,  of 
which  her  son  inherited  but  little,  was  not  without  its  influ- 
ence in  her  family.  Arthur  and  Henry,  the  king's  eldest 
sons,  trembled  in  their  father's  presence ;  but,  captivated  by 
the  affection  of  their  pious  grandmother,  they  began  to  find 
a  pleasure  in  the  society  of  learned  men.  An  important 
circumstance  gave  a  new  impulse  to  one  of  them. 

Among  the  countess's  friends  was  Montjoy,  who  had 
known  Erasmus  at  Paris,  and  heard  his  cutting  sarcasms 
upon  the  schoolmen  and  friars.  He  invited  the  illustrious 
Dutchman  to  England,  and  Erasmus,  who  was  fearful  of 
catching  the  plague,  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  set 
out  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 
But  he  had  not  been  long  in  England  before  he  discovered 
unexpected  light. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival,  happening  to  dine  with  the  lord- 
mayor,  Erasmus  noticed  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  a 
young  man  of  nineteen,  slender,  fresh-coloured,  with  blue 
eyes,  coarse  hands,  and  the  right  shoulder  somewhat  higher 
than  the  other.  His  features  indicated  affability  and  gaiety, 
and  pleasant  jests  were  continually  dropping  from  his  lips. 
If  he  could  not  find  a  joke  in  English,  he  would  in  French, 
and  even  in  Latin  or  Greek.  A  literary  contest  soon  en- 
sued between  Erasmus  and  the  English  youth.  The  former, 
astonished  at  meeting  with  any  one  that  could  hold  his  own 
against  him,  exclaimed  :  Aut  tu  es  Morus  out  nullus !  (you 
are  either  More  or  nobody) ;  and  his  companion,  who  had 
not  learnt  the  stranger's  name,  quickly  replied :  Ant  tu  es 
Erasmus  out  diabolus !  (you  are  either  the  devil  or  Eras- 
mus).* More  flung  himself  into  the  arms  of  Erasmus,  and 
they  became  inseparable  friends.  More  was  continually 
•  Life  of  More  by  his  Great-grandson,  (18-28),  p.  90. 


116  MOUE  AND  COLET. 

joking,  even  with  women,  teasing  the  young  maidens,  and 
making  fun  of  the  dull,  though  without  any  tinge  of  ill- 
nature  in  his  jests.*  But  under  this  sportive  exterior  he 
concealed  a  deep  understanding.  He  was  at  that  time  lec- 
turing on  Augustine's  City  of  God  before  a  numerous 
audience  composed  of  priests  and  aged  men.  The  thought 
of  eternity  had  seized  him ;  and  being  ignorant  of  that  in- 
ternal discipline  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  the  only  true 
discipline,  he  had  recourse  to  the  scourge  on  every  Friday. 
Thomas  More  is  the  ideal  of  the  Catholicism  of  this  period. 
He  had,  like  the  Romish  system,  two  poles — worldliness  and 
asceticism ;  which,  although  contrary,  often  meet  together. 
In  fact,  asceticism  makes  a  sacrifice  of  self,  only  to  preserve 
it;  just  as  a  traveller  attacked  by  robbers  will  readily  give 
up  a  portion  of  his  treasures  to  save  the  rest.  This  was  the 
case  with  More,  if  we  rightly  understand  his  character.  He 
sacrificed  the  accessories  of  his  fallen  nature  to  save  that 
same  nature.  He  submitted  to  fasts  and  vigils,  wore  a  shirt 
of  hair-cloth,  mortified  his  body  by  small  chains  next  his 
skin — in  a  word,  he  immolated  everything  in  order  to 
preserve  that  self  which  a  real  regeneration  alone  can  sac- 
rifice. 

From  London  Erasmus  went  to  Oxford,  where  he  met  with 
John  <sk)let,  a  friend  of  More's,  but  older,  and  of  very  dis- 
similar character.  Colet,  the  scion  of  an  ancient  family,  was 
a  very  portly  man,  of  imposing  aspect,  great  fortune,  and  ele- 
gance of  manners,  to  which  Erasmus  had  not  been  accus- 
tomed. Order,  cleanliness,  and  decorum  prevailed  in  his  per- 
son and  in  his  house.  He  kept  an  excellent  table,  which  was 
open  to  all  the  friends  of  learning,  and  at  which  the  Dutch- 
man, no  great  admirer  of  the  colleges  of  Paris  with  their 
sour  wine  and  stale  eggs,  was  glad  to  take  a  seat,  f  He  there 
met  also  most  of  the  classical  scholars  of  England,  especially 
Grocyn,  Linacre,  Thomas  Wolsey,  bursar  of  Magdalene  Col- 
lege, Halsey,  and  some  others.  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  am 

*  Cum  mulieribus  fere  atque  etiara  cum  uxore  nonnisi  lusus  jocosquo 
Iractat.  Erasm.  Ep.  i.  p.  536. 

+  Quantum  ibi  devorabatur  ovorum  putrium,  quantum  vini  putris  hau- 
riebatur.  Erasm.  Colloq.  p.  5H4. 


A  ROYAL  SCHOOL-ROOM — ERASMUS  AND  PRINCE  EENRY.  117 

delighted  with  your  England,"  he  wrote  to  Lord  Montjoy 
from  Oxford.  "  With  such  men  I  could  willingly  live  in  the 
farthest  coasts  of  Scythia."* 

But  if  Erasmus  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames  found  a 
Maecenas  in  Lord  Montjoy,  a  Labeo  and  perhaps  a  Virgil  in 
More,  he  nowhere  found  an  Augustus.  One  day  as  he  was 
expressing  his  regrets  and  his  fears  to  More,  the  latter  said  : 
"  Come,  let  us  go  to  Eltham,  perhaps  we  shall  find  there 
what  you  are  looking  for."  They  set  out,  More  jesting  all 
the  way,  inwardly  resolving  to  expiate  his  gaiety  by  a  severe 
scourging  at  night.  On  their  arrival  they  were  heartily  wel- 
comed by  Lord  and  Lady  Montjoy,  the  governor  and  gover- 
ness of  the  king's  children.  As  the  two  friends  entered  the 
hall,  a  pleasing  and  unexpected  sight  greeted  Erasmus.  The 
whole  of  the  family  were  assembled,  and  they  found  them- 
selves surrounded  not  only  by  some  of  the  royal  household, 
but  by  the  domestics  of  Lord  Montjoy  also.  On  the  right 
stood  the  Princess  Margaret,  a  girl  of  eleven  years,  whose 
great-grandson  under  the  name  of  Stuart  was  to  continue 
the  Tudor  line  in  England ;  on  the  left  was  Mary,  a  child 
four  years  of  age ;  Edmund  was  in  his  nurse's  arms ;  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  circle,  between  his  two  sisters,  stood  a  boy, 
at  that  time  only  nine  years  old,  whose  handsome  features, 
royal  carriage,  intelligent  eye,  and  exquisite  courtesy ,£ad  an 
extraordinary  charm  for  Erasmus.-j-  That  boy  was  Henry, 
duke  of  York,  the  king's  second  son,  born  on  the  28th 
June  1491.  More,  advancing  towards  the  young  prince, 
presented  to  him  some  piece  of  his  own  writing ;  and  from 
that  hour  Erasmus  kept  up  a  friendly  intercourse  with 
Henry,  which  in  all  probability  exercised  a  certain  influence 
over  the  destinies  of  England.  The  scholar  of  Rotterdam 
was  delighted  to  see  the  prince  excel  in  all  the  manly  sports 
of  the  day.  He  sat  his  horse  with  perfect  grace  and  rare 
intrepidity,  could  hurl  a  javelin  farther  than  any  of  his  com- 
panions, and  having  an  excellent  taste  for  music,  he  was 

*  Dici  non  potest  quam  mihi  dulcescat  Anglia  tna vel  in  extrema 

Scythia  vivcro  non  recusem.    Erasm.  Ep.  i.  p.  311. 
t  Erasm.  Ep.  ad  Botzhcm.  J  or  tin.    Appendix,  p.  10& 


118  AETHUR  AND  CATHERINE. 

already  a  performer  on  several  instruments.  The  king  took 
care  that  he  should  -receive  a  learned  education,  for  he  des- 
tined him  to  fill  the  see  of  Canterbury ;  and  the  illustrious 
Erasmus,  noticing  his  aptitude  for  everything  he  undertook, 
did  his  best  to  cut  and  polish  this  English  diamond,  that  it 
might  glitter  with  the  greater  brilliancy.  "  He  will  begin 
nothing  that  he  will  not  finish,"  said  the  scholar.  And  it 
is  but  too  true,  that  this  prince  always  attained  his  end, 
even  if  it  were  necessary  to  tread  on  the  bleeding  bodies  of 
those  he  had  loved.  Flattered  by  the  attentions  of  the 
young  Henry,  attracted  by  his  winning  grace,  charmed  by 
his  wit,  Erasmus  on  his  return  to  the  continent  every- 
where proclaimed  that  England  at  last  had  found  its 
Octavius. 

As  for  Henry  VII.  he  thought  of  everything  but  Virgil  or 
Augustus.  Avarice  and  ambition  were  his  predominant 
tastes,  which  he  gratified  by  the  marriage  of  his  eldest  son 
in  1501.  Burgundy,  Artois,  Provence,  and  Brittany  having 
been  recently  united  to  France,  the  European  powers  felt  the 
necessity  of  combining  against  that  encroaching  state.  It 
was  in  consequence  of  this  that  Ferdinand  of  Aragon  had 
given  his  daughter  Joanna  to  Philip  of  Austria,  and  that 
Henry  VII.  asked  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Catherine,  then 
in  heineixteenth  year  and  the  richest  princess  in  Europe,  for 
Arthur  prince  of  Wales,  a  youth  about  ten  months  younger. 
The  catholic  king  made  one  condition  to  the  marriage  of  his 
daughter.  Warwick,  the  last  of  the  Plantagenets  and  a  pre- 
tender to  the  crown,  was  confined  in  the  Tower.  Ferdinand, 
to  secure  the  certainty  that  Catherine  would  really  ascend 
the  English  throne,  required  that  the  unhappy  prince  should 
be  put  to  death.  Nor  did  this  alone  satisfy  the  king  of 
Spain.  Henry  VII.,  who  was  not  a  cruel  man,  might  con- 
ceal Warwick,  and  say  that  he  was  no  more.  Ferdinand 
demanded  that  the  chancellor  of  Castile  should  be  present  at 
the  execution.  The  blood  of  Warwick  was  shed ;  his  head 
rolled  duly  on  the  scaffold ;  the  Castilian  chancellor  verified 
and  registered  the  murder,  and  on  the  14th  November  the 
marriage  was  solemnized  at  St  Paul's.  At  midnight  the 
prince  and  princess  were  conducted  with  great  pomp  to  the 


DEATH  OF  PRINCE  ARTHUK.  119 

bridal-chamber.*  These  were  ill-omened  nuptials — fated 
to  set  the  kings  and  nations  of  Christendom  in  battle  against 
each  other,  and  to  serve  as  a  pretext  for  the  external  and 
political  discussions  of  the  English  Reformation.  The 
marriage  of  Catherine  the  Catholic  was  a  marriage  of 
blood. 

In  the  early  part  of  1502,  Prince  Arthur  fell  ill,  and  on  the 
2d  of  April  he  died.  The  necessary  time  was  taken  to  be 
sure  that  Catherine  had  no  hope  of  becoming  a  mother,  after 
which  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  the  youthful  Henry,  was  de- 
clared heir  to  the  crown,  to  the  great  joy  of  all  the  learned. 
This  prince  did  not  forsake  his  studies :  he  spoke  and  wrote 
in  French,  German,  and  Spanish  with  the  facility  of  a 
native;  and  England  hoped  to  behold  one  day  the  most 
learned  of  Christian  kings  upon  the  throne  of  Alfred  the 
Great. 

A  very  different  question  however,  filled  the  mind  of  the 
covetous  Henry  VII.  Must  he  restore  to  Spain  the  two 
hundred  thousand  ducats  which  formed  Catherine's  dowry  ? 
Shall  this  rich  heiress  be  permitted  to  marry  some  rival  of 
England  ?  To  prevent  so  great  a  misfortune  the  king  con- 
ceived the  project  of  uniting  Henry  to  Arthur's  widow.  The 
most  serious  objections  were  urged  against  it.  "  It  is  not 
only  inconsistent  with  propriety,"  said  Warham,  the  primate, 
"  but  the  will  of  God  himself  is  against  it.  It  is  declared  in 
His  law  that  if  a  man  shall  take  his  brother's  wife,  it  is  an 
vnclean  thing  (Lev.  xx.  21) ;  and  in  the  Gospel  John  Baptist 
says  to  Herod :  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  have  thy  brothers 
icife"  (Mark  vi.  18.)  Fox,  bishop  of  Winchester,  suggested 
that  a  dispensation  might  be  procured  from  the  pope,  and  in 
December  1503,  Julius  II.  granted  a  bull  declaring  that  for 
the  sake  of  preserving  union  between  the  catholic  princes  he 
authorized  Catherine's  marriage  with  the  brother  of  her  first 
husband,  accedente  forsan  copula  camali.  These  four  words 
it  is  said,  were  inserted  in  the  bull  at  the  express  desire  of 
the  princess.  All  these  details  will  be  of  importance  in  the 
course  of  our  history.  The  two  parties  were  betrothed,  but 

*  Principes  summa  nocte  ad  thalamum  solemn!  ritu  deduct!  soot 
Sandcrus,  do  schismate  Angl.  p.  2. 


120  PROCLAMATION  OP  HENRY  VHI. 

not  married  in  consideration  of  the  youth  of  the  prince  of 
Wales. 

The  second  marriage  projected  by  Henry  VII.  was  ushered 
in  with  auspices  still  less  promising  than  the  first.  The 
king  having  fallen  sick  and  lost  his  queen,  looked  upon  these 
visitations  as  a  divine  judgment.*  The  nation  murmured, 
and  demanded  whether  it  was  in  the  pope's  power  to  permit 
what  God  had  forbidden,  f  The  young  prince,  being  in- 
formed of  his  father's  scruples  and  of  the  people's  discontent, 
declared,  just  before  attaining  his  majority  (27th  June  1505), 
in  the  presence  of  the  bishop  of  Winchester  and  several  royal 
counsellors,  that  he  protested  against  the  engagement  entered 
into  during  his  minority,  and  that  he  would  never  make 
Catherine  his  wife. 

His  father's  death,  which  made  him  free,  made  him  also 
recall  this  virtuous  decision.  In  1509,  the  hopes  of  the 
learned  seemed  about  to  be  realized.  On  the  9th  of  May,  a 
hearse  decorated  with  regal  pomp,  bearing  on  a  rich  pall  of 
cloth  of  gold  thxe  mortal  remains  of  Henry  VIL,  with  his 
sceptre  and  his  crown,  entered  London,  followed  by  a  long 
procession.  The  great  officers  of  state,  assembled  round 
the  coffin,  broke  their  staves  and  cast  them  into  the  vault, 
and  the  heralds  cried  with  a  loud  voice :  "  God  send  the 
noble  King  Henry  VIII.  long  life."J  Such  a  cry  perhaps 
had  never  on  any  previous  occasion  been  so  joyfully  repeated 
by  the  people.  The  young  king  gratified  the  wishes  of  the 
nation  by  ordering  the  arrest  of  Einpson  and  Dudley,  who 
were  charged  with  extortion ;  and  he  conformed  to  the  en- 
lightened counsels  of  his  grandmother,  by  choosing  the  most 
able  ministers,  and  placing  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  as 
lord-chancellor  at  their  head.  Warham  was  a  man  of  great 
capacity.  The  day  was  not  too  short  for  him  to  hear  mass, 
receive  ambassadors,  consult  with  the  king  in  the  royal 
closet,  entertain  as  many  as  two  hundred  guests  at  his  table, 
take  his  seat  on  the  woolsack,  and  find  time  for  his  private  de- 
motions. The  joy  of  the  learned  surpassed  that  of  the  people 

*  Morysin's  Apomaxis. 

t  Herbert.  Life  of  Henry  VIII.  p.  18. 

J  Leland's  Collectanea,  vol.  iv.  p.  309. 


ENTHUSIASM  OF  TUB  LEAK  NED.  121 

The  old  king  wanted  none  of  their  praises  or  congratulations, 
for  fear  he  should  have  to  pay  for  them  ;  but  now  they  could 
give  free  course  to  their  enthusiasm.  Montjoy  pronounced 
the  young  king  "  divine ;"  the  Venetian  ambassador  likened 
his  port  to  Apollo's,  and  his  noble  chest  to  the  torso  of  Mars ; 
he  was  lauded  both  in  Greek  and  Latin  ;  he  was  hailed  as 
the  founder  of  a  new  era,  and  Henry  seemed  desirous  of 
meriting  these  eulogiums.  Far  from  permitting  himself  to 
be  intoxicated  by  so  much  adulation,  he  said  to  Montjoy : 
"  Ah !  how  I  should  like  to  be  a  scholar!"—"  Sire,"  replied 
the  courtier,  "  it  is  enough  that  you  show  your  regard  for 
those  who  possess  the  learning  you  desire  for  yourself." — 
"  How  can  I  do  otherwise,"  he  replied  with  earnestness ; 
"without  them  we  hardly  exist!"  Montjoy  immediately 
communicated  this  to  Erasmus. 

Erasmus  ! — Erasmus  ! — the  walls  of  Eltham,  Oxford,  and 
London  resounded  with  the  name.  The  king  could  not  live 
without  the  learned ;  nor  the  learned  without  Erasmus.  This 
scholar,  who  was  an  enthusiast  for  the  young  king,  was  no* 
long  in  answering  to  the  call.  When  Richard  Pace,  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  men  of  that  age,  met  the  learned 
Dutchman  at  Ferrara,  the  latter  took  from  his  pocket  a  little 
box  which  he  always  carried  with  him  :  "  You  don't  know," 
he  said,  "  what  a  treasure  you  have  in  England  :  I  will  just 
show  you ;"  and  he  took  from  the  box  a  letter  of  Henry's 
expressing  in  Latin  of  considerable  purity  the  tenderest  re- 
gard for  his  correspondent.*  Immediately  after  the  corona- 
tion Montjoy  "wrote  to  Erasmus :  "  Our  Henry  Octants, 
or  rather  Octavius,  is  on  the  throne.  Come  and  behold  the 
new  star.-j-  The  heavens  smile,  the  earth  leaps  for  joy,  and 
all  is  (lowing  with  milk,  nectar,  and  honey,  f  Avarice  has 
fled  away,  liberality  has  descended,  scattering  on  every  side 
with  gracious  hand  her  bounteous  largesses.  Our  king  de- 

*  Scripsit  ad  me  suapto  manu  litteras  amantissimas.    Erasra.  vita 
ad  Ep. 

+  Ut  hoc  novum  sidus  aspicias.  Ibid.  p.  277  :  an  expression  of  Virgil, 
speaking  of  the  deified  Augustus. 

*  Ridet  .ether,  exultat  terra,  omnia  la:tis,  omnia  mellis,  omnia  nec- 
taris  8unt  plena.     Ibid. 

6* 


122  POPE  JULIUS  II. 

sires  not  gold  or  precious  stones,  but  virtue,  glory,  and  im- 
mortality." 

In  such  glowing  terms  was  the  young  king  described  by 
a  man  who  had  seen  him  closely.  Erasmus  could  resist  no 
longer :  he  bade  the  pope  farewell,  and  hastened  to  London, 
where  he  met  with  a  hearty  welcome  from  Henry.  Science 
and  power  embraced  each  other :  England  was  about  to 
have  its  Medici ;  and  the  friends  of  learning  no  longer 
doubted  of  the  regeneration  of  Britain. 

Julius  II.,  who  had  permitted  Erasmus  to  exchange  the 
white  frock  of  the  monks  for  the  black  dress  of  the  seculars,* 
allowed  him  to  depart  without  much  regret.  This  pontiff 
had  little  taste  for  letters,  but  was  fond  of  war,  hunting,  and 
the  pleasures  of  the  table.  The  English  sent  him  a  dish 
to  his  taste  in  exchange  for  the  scholar.  Some  time  after 
Erasmus  had  left,  as  the  pope  was  one  day  reposing  from 
the  fatigues  of  the  chase,  he  heard  voices  near  him  singing 
a  strange  song.  He  asked  with  surprise  what  it  meant,  f 
"  It  is  some  Englishmen,"  was  the  answer,  and  three 
foreigners  entered  the  room,  each  bearing  a  closely-covered 
jar,  which  the  youngest  presented  on  his  knees.  This  was 
Thomas  Cromwell,  who  appears  here  for  the  first  time  on 
the  historic  scene.  He  was  the  son  of  a  blacksmith  of 
Putney ;  but  he  possessed  a  mind  so  penetrating,  a  judg- 
ment so  sound,  a  heart  so  bold,  ability  so  consummate,  such 
easy  elocution,  such  an  accurate  memory,  such  great  activity, 
and  so  able  a  pen,  that  the  most  brilliant  career  was  fore- 
boded him.  At  the  age  of  twenty  he  left  England,  being 
desirous  to  see  the  world,  and  began  life  as  a  clerk  in  the 
English  factory  at  Antwerp.  Shortly  after  this  two  fellow- 
countrymen  from  Boston  came  to  him  in  their  embarrass- 
ment. "  What  do  you  want  ? "  he  asked  them.  "  Our 
townsmen  have  sent  us  to  the  pope,"  they  told  him,  "  to  get 
the  renewal  of  the  greater  and  lesser  pardons,  whose  term  is 
nearly  run,  and  which  are  necessary  for  the  repair  of  our  har- 
bour. But  we  do  not  know  how  to  appear  before  him." 

*  Vestem  albam  commutavit  in  nigram.    Epp.  ad  Servat. 
f  The  pope  suddenly  marvelling  %t  the  strangeness  of  the  song.    Foxe, 
Acts,  v.  p.  364,  ed.  Lond.  1838. 


CROMWELL  AND  THE  POPE.  123 

Cromwell,  prompt  to  undertake  everything,  an.l  knowing  a 
little  Italian,  replied,  "  I  will  go  with  you."  Then  slapping 
his  forehead  he  muttered  to  himself:  "  What  fish  can  I  throw 
out  as  a  bait  to  these  greedy  cormorants  ? "  A  friend  in- 
rormed  him  that  the  pope  was  very  fond  of  dainties.  Crom- 
well immediately  ordered  some  exquisite  jelly  to  be  prepared, 
after  the  English  fashion,  and  set  out  for  Italy  with  his  pro- 
visions and  his  two  companions. 

This  was  the  man  who  appeared  before  Julius  after  his 
return  from  the  chase.  "Kings  and  princes  alone  eat  of 
this  preserve  in -England,"  said  Cromwell  to  the  pope.  One 
cardinal,  who  was  a  greedier  "  cormorant "  than  his  master, 
eagerly  tasted  the  delicacy.  "  Try  it,"  he  exclaimed,  and  the 
pope,  relishing  this  new  confectionary,  immediately  signed 
the  pardons,  on  condition  however  that  the  receipt  for  the 
Jelly  should  be  left  with  him.  "  And  thus  were  the  jelly- 
pardons  obtained,"  says  the  annalist.  It  was  Cromwell's 
first  exploit,  and  the  man  who  began  his  busy  career  by  pre- 
senting jars  of  confectionary  to  the  pope  was  also  the  man 
destined  to  separate  England  from  Rome. 

The  court  of  the  pontiff  was  not  the  only  one  in  Europe 
devoted  to  gaiety.  Hunting  parties  were  as  common  in 
London  as  at  Rome.  The  young  king  and  his  companions 
were  at  that  time  absorbed  in  balls,  banquets,  and  the  other 
festivities  inseparable  from  a  new  reign.  He  recollected  how- 
ever that  he  must  give  a  queen  to  his  people  :  Catherine  of 
Aragon  was  still  in  England,  and  the  council  recommended 
her  for  his  wife.  He  admired  her  piety  without  caring  to 
imitate  it;*  he  was  pleased  with  her  love  for  literature,  and 
even  felt  some  inclination  towards  her.  -j-  His  advisers  re- 
presented to  him  that  "  Catherine,  daughter  of  the  illustrious 
Isabella  of  Castile,  was  the  image  of  her  mother.  Like  her, 
she  possessed  that  wisdom  and  greatness  of  mind  which  win 
the  respect  of  nations  ;  and  that  if  she  carried  to  any  of  his 
rivals  her  marriage-portion  and  the  Spanish  alliance,  the 
long-contested  crown  of  England  would  soon  fall  from  his 
head "We  have  the  pope's  dispensation :  will  you  be  more 

*  Admirabatur  quidem  uxoris  sanctitatem.    Sanders,  p.  5. 
t  Ut  amor  plus  apud  regem  posset.    Morysin,  Apom.  p.  14. 


124        CATHERINE  PROPOSEL  TO  E3NRY — HENRY*S  COURT. 

scrupulous  than  he  is?"*  The  archbishop  of  Canterbury 
opposed  in  vain :  Henry  gave  way,  and  on  the  eleventh  of 
June,  about  seven  weeks  after  his  father's  death,  the  nuptials 
were  privately  celebrated.  On  the  twenty-third  the  king 
and  queen  went  in  state  through  the  city,  the  bride  wearing 
a  white  satin  dress  with  her  hair  hanging  down  her  back 
nearly  to  her  feet.  On  the  next  day  they  were  crowned  at 
Westminster  with  great  magnificence. 

Then  followed  a  series  of  expensive  entertainments.  The 
treasures  which  the  nobility  had  long  concealed  from  fear  of 
the  old  king,  were  now  brought  out ;  the  ladies  glittered 
with  gold  and  diamonds ;  and  the  king  and  queen,  whom  the 
people  never  grew  tired  of  admiring,  amused  themselves  like 
children  with  the  splendour  of  their  royal  robes.  Henry 
VIII.  was  the  forerunner  of  Louis  XIV.  Naturally  inclined 
to  pomp  and  pleasure,  the  idol  of  his  people,  a  devoted  ad-» 
mirer  of  female  beauty,  and  the  husband  of  almost  as  many 
wives  as  Louis  had  adulterous  mistresses,  he  made  the  court 
of  England  what  the  son  of  Anne  of  Austria  made  the  court 
of  France, — one  constant  scene  of  amusements.  He  thought 
he  could  never  get  to  the  end  of  the  riches  amassed  by  his 
prudent  father.  His  youth — for  he  was  only  eighteen — the 
gaiety  of  his  disposition,  the  grace  he  displayed  in  all  bodily 
exercises,  the  tales  of  chivalry  in  which  he  delighted,  and 
which  even  the  clergy  recommended  to  their  high-born 
hearers,  the  flattery  of  his  courtiers  -J- — all  these  combined  to 
set  his  young  imagination  in  a  ferment.  Wherever  he  ap- 
peared, all  were  filled  with  admiration  of  his  handsome  coun- 
tenance and  graceful  figure  :  such  is  the  portrait  bequeathed 
to  us  by  his  greatest  enemy. |  "His  brow  was  made  to 
wear  the  crown,  and  his  majestic  port  the  kingly  mantle," 
adds  Noryson.§ 

Henry  resolved  to  realize  without  delay  the  chivalrous 

*  Herbert's  Henry  VIII.,  p.  7.  Fuller's  Church  Hist.  Book  V.  p.  165. 
Erasrn.  Epp.  ad  Amerb.  p.  19. 

f  Tyndale,  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man  (1528). 

J  Eximia  corporis  forma  prseditus,  in  qua  etiam  regiae  majcstatis 
augusta  qucedam  specios  elucebat.  Sandems  de  Schism.,  p.  4. 

§  Tumor,  Hist.  Engl.  i.  p.  '2«. 


COURT   AMUSEMENTS.  125 

combats  and  fabulous  splendours  of  the  heroes  of  the  Round 
Table,  as  if  to  prepare  himself  for  those  more  real  struggles 
which  he  would  one  day  have  to  maintain  against  the  papacy. 
At  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  the  youthful  monarch  would 
enter  the  lists,  clad  in  costly  armour,  and  wearing  a  plume 
that  fell  gracefully  down  to  the  saddle  of  his  rigorous  cour- 
ser; "like  an  untamed  bull,"  says  an  historian,  "which 
breaks  away  from  its  yoke  and  rushes  into  the  arena."  On 
one  occasion,  at  the  celebration  of  the  queen's  churching, 
Catherine  with  her  ladies  was  seated  in  a  tent  of  purple  and 
gold,  in  the  midst  of  an  artificial  forest,  strewn  with  rocks 
and  variegated  with  flowers.  On  a  sudden  a  monk  stepped 
forward,  wearing  a  long  brown  robe,  and  kneeling  before  her, 
begged  permission  to  run  a  course.  It  was  granted,  and 
rising  up  he  threw  aside  his  coarse  frock,  and  appeared  gor- 
geously armed  for  the  tourney.  He  was  Charles  Brandon, 
afterwards  duke  of  Suffolk,  one  of  the  handsomest  and 
strongest  men  in  the  kingdom,  and  the  first  after  Henry  in 
military  exercises.  He  was  followed  by  a  number  of  others 
dressed  in  black  velvet,  with  wide-brimmed  hats  on  their 
heads,  staffs  in  their  hands,  and  scarfs  across  their  shoulders 
ornamented  with  cockle-shells,  like  pilgrims  from  St  James 
of  Compostella.  These  also  threw  off  their  disguise,  and 
stood  forth  in  complete  armour.  At  their  head  was  Sir 
Thomas  Boleyn,  whose  daughter  was  fated  to  surpass  in 
beauty,  greatness,  and  misfortune,  all  the  women  of  Eng- 
land. The  tournament  began.  Henry,  who  has  been  com- 
pared to  Amadis  in  boldness,  to  the  lion-hearted  Richard  in 
courage,  and  to  Edward  III.  in  courtesy,  did  not  always 
escape  danger  in  these  chivalrous  contests.  One  day  the 
king  had  forgotten  to  lower  his  vizor,  and  Brandon,  his  oppo- 
nent, setting  off  at  full  gallop,  the  spectators  noticed  the 
oversight,  and  cried  out  in  alarm.  But  nothing  could  stop 
their  horses :  the  two  cavaliers  met.  Suffolk's  lance  was 
shivered  against  Henry,  and  the  fragments  struck  him  in 
the  face.  Every  one  thought  the  king  was  dead,  and  some 
were  running  to  arrest  Brandon,  when  Henry,  recover- 
ing from  the  blow  which  had  fallen  on  his  helmet,  re- 
commenced the  combat,  and  ran  six  new  courses  amid  the. 


126  THE  POPE  EXCITES  TO  WAR. 

admiring  cries  of  his  subjects.  This  intrepid  courage  changed 
as  he  grew  older  into  unsparing  cruelty ;  and  it  was  this 
young  tiger,  whose  movements  were  then  so  graceful,  that 
at  no  distant  day  tore  with  his  bloody  fangs  the  mother  of 
his  children. 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  Pope  excites  to  War— Colet's  Sermon  at  St  Paul's— The  Flemish 
Campaign — Marriage  of  Louis  XII.  and  Princess  Mary — Letter  from 
Anne  Boleyn — Marriage  of  Brandon  and  Mary — Oxford — Sir  Thomas 
More  at  Court — Attack  upon  the  Monasteries — Colet's  Household — He 
preaches  Reform — The  Greeks  and  Trojans. 

A  MESSAGE  from  the  pope  stopped  Henry  in  the  midst  of 
these  amusements.  In  Scotland,  Spain,  France,  and  Italy, 
the  young  king  had  nothing  but  friends — a  harmony  which 
the  papacy  was  intent  on  disturbing.  One  day,  immediately 
after  high-mass  had  been  celebrated,  the  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, on  behalf  of  Julius  II.  laid  at  his  feet  a  golden  rose, 
which  had  been  blessed  by  the  pope,  anointed  with  holy  oil, 
and  perfumed  with  musk.*  It  was  accompanied  by  a  letter 
saluting  him  as  head  of  the  Italian  league.  The  warlike 
pontiff  having  reduced  the  Venetians,  desired  to  humble 
France,  and  to  employ  Henry  as  the  instrument  of  his 
vengeance.  Henry,  only  a  short  time  before,  had  renewed 
his  alliance  with  Louis  XII. ;  but  the  pope  was  not  to  be 
baffled  by  such  a  trifle  as  that,  and  the  young  king  soon 
began  to  dream  of  rivalling  the  glories  of  Crecy,  Poitiers, 
and  Agincourt.  To  no  purpose  did  his  wisest  councillors 
represent  to  him  that  England,  in  the  most  favourable  times, 
had  never  been  able  to  hold  her  ground  in  France,  and  that 
the  sea  was  the  true  field  open  to  her  conquests.  Julius, 
knowing  his  vanity,  had  promised  to  deprive  Louis  of  the 
title  of  Most  Christian  king,  and  confer  it  upon  him.  "  His 

*  Odorifiof  musoo  aspersam.    Wilkins,  Concilia,  iii.  p.  G52. 


DEAN  COLET'S  SERMON.  127 

holiness  hopes  that  your  Grace  will  utterly  exterminate  the 
king  of  France,"  wrote  the  king's  agent.*  Henry  saw  no- 
thing objectionable  in  this  very  unapostolic  mission,  and 
decided  on  substituting  the  terrible  game  of  war  for  the 
gentler  sports  of  peace. 

In  the  spring  of  1511,  after  some  unsuccessful  attempts 
by  his  generals,  Henry  determined  to  invade  France  in  per- 
son. He  was  in  the  midst  of  his  preparations  when  the 
festival  of  Easter  arrived.  Dean  Colet  had  been  appointed 
to  preach  before  Henry  on  Good  Friday,  and  in  the  course 
of  his  sarmon  he  showed  more  courage  than  could  have  been 
expected  in  a  scholar,  for  a  spark  of  the  Christian  spirit  was 
glowing  in  his  bosom.  He  chose  for  the  subject  of  his  dis- 
course Christ's  victory  over  death  and  the  grave.  "  Who- 
ever takes  up  arms  from  ambition,"  said  he,  "  fights  not 
under  the  standard  of  Christ,  but  of  Satan.  If  ypu  desire  to 
contend  against  your  enemies,  follow  Jesus  Christ  as  your 
prince  and  captain,  rather  than  Caesar  or  Alexander."  His 
hearers  looked  at  each  other  with  astonishment ;  the  friends 
of  polite  literature  became  alarmed ;  and  the  priests,  who 
were  getting  uneasy  at  the  uprising  of  the  human  mind, 
hoped  to  profit  by  this  opportunity  of  inflicting  a  deadly 
blow  on  their  antagonists.  There  were  among  them  men 
whose  opinions  we  must  condemn,  while  we  cannot  forbear 
respecting  their  zeal  for  what  they  believed  to  be  the  truth  :  of 
this  number  were  Bricot,  Fitzjames,  and  above  all  Standish. 
Their  zeal,  however,  went  a  little  too  far  on  this  occasion : 
they  even  talked  of  burning  the  dean.-J-  After  the  sermon, 
Colet  was  informed  that  the  king  requested  his  attendance 
in  the  garden  of  the  Franciscan  monastery,  and  immediately 
the  priests  and  monks  crowded  round  the  gate,  hoping  to  see 
their  adversary  led  forth  as  a  criminal.  "  Let  us  be  alone," 
said  Henry ;  "  put  on  your  cap,  Master  Dean,  and  we  will 
take  a  walk.  Cheer  up,"  he  continued,  "  you  have  nothing  to 
fear.  You  have  spoken  admirably  of  Christian  charity,  and 
have  almost  reconciled  me  to  the  king  of  France ;  yet,  as 

*  Letter  of  Cardinal  Bembridge.    Cotton  MSS.  Vitell.  B.  2,  p.  8. 
f  Dr  Colet  was  in  trouble  and  should  have  been  burnt.    Latimer's 
Sermons.    Parker  edition,  p.  440. 


128  A  KOYAL  CAMPAIGN. 

the  contest  is  not  one  of  choice,  but  of  necessity,  I  must  beg 
of  you  in  some  future  sermon  to  explain  this  to  my  people. 
Unless  you  do  so,  I  fear  my  soldiers  may  misunderstand 
your  meaning."  Colet  was  not  a  John  Baptist,  and,  affected 
by  the  king's  condescension,  he  gave  the  required  explana- 
tion. The  king  was  satisfied,  and  exclaimed  :  "  Let  every 
man  have  his  doctor  as  he  pleases ;  this  man  is  my  doctor, 
and  I  will  drink  his  health  !"  Henry  was  then  young  :  very 
different  was  the  fashion  with  which  in  after-years  he  treated 
those  who  opposed  him. 

At  heart  the  king  cared  little  more  about  the  victories  of 
Alexander  than  of  Jesus  Christ.  Having  fitted  out  hi"s  army, 
he  embarked  at  the  end  of  June,  accompanied  by  his  almoner, 
Wolsey,  who  was  rising  into  favour,  and  set  out  for  the  war 
as  if  for  a  tournament.  Shortly  after  this,  he  went,  all  glit- 
tering with  jewels,  to  meet  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  who 
received  him  in  a  plain  doublet  and  cloak  of  black  serge. 
After  his  victory  at  the  battle  of  Spurs,  Henry,  instead  of 
pressing  forward  to  the  conquest  of  France,  returned  to  the 
siege  of  Terouenne,  wasted  his  time  in  jousts  and  entertain- 
ments, conferred  on  Wolsey  the  bishopric  of  Tournay  which 
he  had  just  captured,  and  then  returned  to  England,  delighted 
at  having  made  so  pleasant  an  excursion. 

Louis  XII.  was  a  widower  in  his  53d  year,  and  bowed 
down  by  the  infirmities  of  a  premature  old  age ;  but  being 
desirous  of  preventing,  at  any  cost,  the  renewal  of  the  war, 
he  sought  the  hand  of  Henry's  sister,  the  Princess  Mary, 
then  in  her  16th  year.  Her  affections  were  already  fixed 
on  Charles  Brandon,  and  for  him  she  would  have  sacrificed 
the  splendour  of  a  throne.  But  reasons  of  state  opposed 
their  union.  "  The  princess,"  remarked  Wolsey,  "  will  soon 
return  to  England  a  widow  with  a  royal  dowry."  This 
decided  the  question.  The  disconsolate  Mary,  who  was  an 
object  of  universal  pity,  embarked  at  Dover  with  a  numerous 
train,  and  from  Boulogne,  where  she  was  received  by  the 
duke  of  Angouleme,  she  was  conducted  to  the  king,  elated 
at  the  idea  of  marrying  the  handsomest  princess  in  Europe. 

Among  Mary's  attendants  was  the  youthful  Anne  Boleyn. 
Her  father,  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  had  been  charged  by  Henry, 


LETTER  FROM  ANNE  BOLEYN.  129 

conjointly  with  the  bishop  of  Ely,  with  the  diplomatic  nego- 
tiations preliminary  to  this  marriage.  Anne  had  passed  her 
childhood  at  Hever  castle,  surrounded  by  all  that  could  heat 
the  imagination.  Her  maternal  grandfather,  the  earl  of  Sur- 
rey, whose  eldest  son  had  married  the  sister  of  Henry  the 
Seventh's  queen,  had  filled,  as  did  his  sons  also,  the  most 
important  offices  of  state.  At  the  age  probably  of  fourteen, 
when  summoned  by  her  father  to  court,  she  wrote  him  the 
following  letter  in  French,  which  appears  to  refer  to  her 
departure  for  France  : — 
* 

"  SIR, — I  find  by  your  letter  that  you  wish  me  to  appeal 
at  court  in  a  manner  becoming  a  respectable  female,  and 
likewise  that  the  queen  will  condescend  to  enter  into  conver- 
sation with  me  ;  at  this  I  rejoice,  as  I  do  to  think,  that  con- 
versing with  so  sensible  and  elegant  a  princess  will  make 
me  even  more  desirous  of  continuing  to  speak  and  to  write 
good  French ;  the  more  as  it  is  by  your  earnest  advice,  which 
(I  acquaint  you  by  this  present  writing)  I  shall  follow  to  the 
best  of  my  ability. .....As  to  myself,  rest  assured  that  I  shall 

not  ungratefully  look  upon  this  fatherly  office  as  one  that 
might  be  dispensed  with ;  nor  will  it  tend  to  diminish  my 
affection,  quest  [wish],  and  deliberation  to  lead  as  holy  a  life 
as  you  may  please  to  desire  of  me ;  indeed  my  love  for  you 
is  founded  on  so  firm  a  basis  that  it  can  never  be  impaired. 
I  put  an  end  to  this  my  lucubration  after  having  very  hum- 
bly craved  your  good  will  and  affection.  Written  at  Hever, 

by 

"  Your  very  humble  and  obedient  daughter, 

"  ANNA  DE  BOULLAN."* 

Such  were  the  feelings  under  which  this  young  and  in- 
teresting lady,  so  calumniated  by  papistical  writers,  appeared 
at  court. 

The  marriage  was  celebrated  at  Abbeville  on  the  9th  of 

"  The  French  original  is  preserved  among  Archbishop  Parker's  MSS. 
at  Corpus  Christi  College,  Cambridge.  The  translation  in  the  text  is 
(with  a  slight  variation)  from  Sir  H.  Ellis'a  Collection  of  royal  and  other 
letters,  vol.  ii.  second  series. 

W* 


130  MARY  MAKRIES  BRANDON. 

Octobei  1514,  and  after  a  sumptuous  banquet,  the  king  of 
France  distributed  his  royal  largesses  among  the  English 
lords,  who  were  charmed  by  his  courtesy.  Bsrt  the  morrow 
was  a  day  of  trial  to  the  young  queen.  Louis  XII.  had 
dismissed  the  numerous  train  which  had  accompanied  her, 
and  even  Lady  Guildford,  to  whom  Henry  had  specially 
confided  her.  Three  only  were  left, — of  whom  the  youthful 
Anne  Boleyn  was  one.  At  this  separation,  Mary  gave  way 
to  the  keenest  sorrow.  To  cheer  her  spirits,  Louis  pro- 
claimed a  grand  tournament.  Brandon  hastened  to  France 
at  its  first  announcement,  and  carried  off  all  the  prizes ; 
while  the  king,  languidly  reclining  on  a  couch,  could  with 
difficulty  look  upon  the  brilliant  spectacle  over  which  his 
queen  presided,  sick  at  heart  yet  radiant  with  youth  and 
beauty.  Mary  was  unable  to  conceal  her  emotion,  and 
Louisa  of  Savoy,  who  was  watching  her,  divined  her  secret. 
But  Louis,  if  he  experienced  the  tortures  of  jealousy,  did 
not  feel  them  long,  for  his  death  took  place  on  the  1st 
January  1515. 

Even  before  her  husband's  funeral  was  over,  Mary's  heart 
beat  high  with  hope.  Francis  I.,  impatient  to  see  her 
wedded  to  some  unimportant  political  personage,  encouraged 
her  love  for  Brandon.  The  latter,  who  had  been  commis- 
sioned by  Henry  to  convey  to  her  his  letters  of  condolence, 
feared  his  master's  anger  if  he  should  dare  aspire  to  the 
hand  of  the  princess.  But  the  widowed  queen,  who  was 
resolved  to  brave  everything,  told  her  lover :  (<  Either  you 
marry  me  in  four  days  or  you  see  me  no  more."  The  choice 
the  king  had  made  of  his  ambassador  announced  that  he 
would  not  behave  very  harshly.  The  marriage  was  cele- 
brated in  the  abbey  of  Clugny,  and  Henry  pardoned  them. 

While  Mary  returned  to  England,  as  Wolsey  had  pre- 
dicted, Anne  Boleyn  remained  in  France.  Her  father,  de- 
siring his  daughter  to  become  an  accomplished  woman, 
intrusted  her  to  the  care  of  the  virtuous  Claude  of  France, 
the  good  queen,  at  whose  court  the  daughters  of  the  first 
families  of  the  kingdom  were  trained.  Margaret,  duchess 
of  Alenc,on,  the  sister  of  Francis,  and  afterwards  queen  of 
Navarre,  often  charmed  the  queen's  circle  by  her  lively  con- 


OXFOBD SIR  THOMAS  MORE  AT  COURT.  131 

versation.  She  soon  became  deeply  attached  to  the  young 
Englishwoman,  and  on  the  death  of  Claude  took  her  into  her 
own  family.  Anne  Boleyn  was  destined  at  no  very  remote 
period  to  be  at  the  court  of  London  a  reflection  of  the  grace- 
ful Margaret,  and  her  relations  with  that  princess  were  not 
without  influence  on  the  English  lleformation. 

Arid  indeed  the  literary  movement  which  had  passed  from 
Italy  into  France  appeared  at  that  time  as  if  it  would  cross 
from  France  into  Britain.  Oxford  exercises  over  England 
as  great  an  influence  as  the  metropolis;  and  it  is  almost 
always  within  its  walls  that  a  movement  commences  whether 
for  good  or  evil.  At  this  period  of  our  history,  an  enthusi- 
astic youth  hailed  with  joy  the  first  beams  of  the  new  sun, 
and  attacked  with  their  sarcasms  the  idleness  of  the  monks, 
the  immorality  of  the  clergy,  and  the  superstition  of  the 
people.  Disgusted  with  the  priestcraft  of  the  middle  ages, 
and  captivated  by  the  writers  of  antiquity  and  the  purity  of 
the  Gospel,  Oxford  boldly  called  for  a  reform  which  should 
burst  the  bonds  of  clerical  domination  and  emancipate  the 
human  mind.  Men  of  letters  thought  for  a  while  that  they 
had  found  the  most  powerful  man  in  England  in  Wolsey, 
the  ally  that  would  give  them  the  victory. 

He  possessed  little  taste  for  learning,  but  seeing  the  wind 
of  public  favour  blow  in  that  direction,  he  readily  spread  his 
sails  before  it.  He  got  the  reputation  of  a  profound  divine, 
by  quoting  a  few  words  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the  fame 
of  a  Maecenas  and  Ptolemy,  by  inviting  the  learned  to  his 
gorgeous  entertainments.  "  0  happy  cardinal,"  exclaimed 
Erasmus,  "  who  can  surround  his  table  with  such  torches!"* 

At  that  time  the  king  felt  the  same  ambition  as  his 
minister,  and  having  tasted  in  turn  the  pleasures  of  war  and 
diplomacy,  he  now  bent  his  mind  to  literature.  He  desired 
Wolsey  to  present  Sir  Thomas  More  to  him. — "  What  shall 
I  do  at  court  ?"  replied  the  latter.  "  I  shall  be  as  awkward 
as  a  man  that  never  rode  sitteth  in  a  saddle."  Happy  in 
his  family  circle,  where  his  father,  mother,  and  children, 
gathering  round  the  same  table,  formed  a  pleasing  group, 
which  the  pencil  of  Holbein  has  transmitted  to  us,  More 

*  Cnjus  meiua  talibus  luminibus  cingitur.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  725. 


132  THE  MONASTERIES  ASSAILED. 

had  no  desire  to  leave  it.  But  Henry  was  not  a  man  to  put 
up  with  a  refusal ;  he  employed  force  almost  to  draw  More 
from  his  retirement,  and  in  a  short  time  he  could  not  live 
without  the  society  of  the  man  of  letters.  On  calm  and 
starlight  nights  they  would  walk  together  upon  the  leads  at 
the  top  of  the  palace,  discoursing  on  the  motions  of  the 
heavenly  bodies.  If  More  did  not  appear  at  court,  Henry 
would  go  to  Chelsea  and  share  the  frugal  dinner  of  the 
family  with  some  of  their  simple  neighbours.  "  Where," 
asked  Erasmus,  "where  is  the  Athens,  the  Porch,  or  the 
Academe,  that  can  be  compared  with  the  court  of  England? 

It  is  a  seat  of  the  muses  rather  than  a  palace The 

golden  age  is  reviving,  and  I  congratulate  the  world." 

But  the  friends  of  classical  learning  were  not  content  with 
the  cardinal's  banquets  or  the  king's  favours.  They  wanted 
victories,  and  their  keenest  darts  were  aimed  at  the  cloisters, 
those  strong  fortresses  of  the  hierarchy  and  of  uncleanness.* 
The  abbot  of  Saint  Albans,  having  taken  a  married  woman 
for  his  concubine,  and  placed  her  at  the  head  of  a  nunnery, 
his  monks  had  followed  his  example,  and  indulged  in  the 
most  scandalous  debauchery.  Public  indignation  was  so 
far  aroused,  that  Wolsey  himself — Wolsey,  the  father  of 
several  illegitimate  children,  and  who  was  suffering  the 
penalty  of  his  irregularities-}- — was  carried  away  by  the 
spirit  of  the  age,  and  demanded  of  the  pope  a  general  reform 
of  manners.  When  they  heard  of  this  request,  the  priests 
and  friars  were  loud  in  their  outcries.  "What  are  you 
about?"  said  they  to  Wolsey.  "  You  are  giving  the  victory 
to  the  enemies  of  the  church,  and  your  only  reward  will  be 
the  hatred  of  the  whole  world."  As  this  was  not  the  car- 
dinal's game,  he  abandoned  his  project,  and  conceived  one 
more  easily  executed.  Wishing  to  deserve  the  name  of 
"  Ptolemy"  conferred  on  him  by  Erasmus,  he  undertook  to 
build  two  large  colleges,  one  at  Ipswich,  his  native  town, 
the  other  at  Oxford;  and  found  it  convenient  to  take  the 
money  necessary  for  their  endowment,  not  from  his  own 

*  Loca  sacra  ctiam  ipsa  Dei  templa  monialium  stupro  et  sanguinis  et 
seminis  effusione  profanare  noil  verentur.  Papal  bull.  Wilkins,  Con- 
cilia, p.  632.  t  Morbus  vcnereus.  Buruet. 


WOLSEY'S  TWO  COLLEGES.  133 

purse,  but  from  the  purses  of  the  monks.  He  pointed  out 
to  the  pope  twenty-two  monasteries  in  which  (he  said)  vice 
and  impiety  had  taken  up  their  abode.*  The  pope  granted 
their  secularization,  and  Wolsey  having  thus  procured  a 
revenue  of  £2000  sterling,  laid  the  foundations  cf  his 
college,  traced  out  various  courts,  and  constructed  spacious 
kitchens.  He  fell  into  disgrace  before  he  had  completed  his 
work,  which  led  Gualter  to  say  with  a  sneer :  "  He  began 
a  college  and  built  a  cook's  shop."f  But  a  great  example 
had  been  set :  the  monasteries  had  been  attacked,  and  the 
first  breach  made  in  them  by  a  cardinal.  Cromwell,  Wol- 
sey's  secretary,  remarked  how  his  master  had  set  about  his 
work,  and  in  after-years  profited  by  the  lesson. 

It  was  fortunate  for  letters  that  they  had  sincerer  friends 
in  London  than  Wolsey.  Of  these  were  Colet,  dean  of  St 
Paul's,  whose  house  was  the  centre  of  the  literary  movement 
which  preceded  the  Reformation,  and  his  friend  and  guest 
Erasmus.  The  latter  was  the  hardy  pioneer  who  opened 
the  road  of  antiquity  to  modern  Europe.  One  day  he  would 
entertain  Colet's  guests  with  the  account  of  a  new  manu- 
script ;  on  another,  with  a  discussion  on  the  forms  of  ancient 
literature ;  and  at  other  times  he  would  attack  the  school- 
men and  monks,  when  Colet  would  take  the  same  side. 
The  only  antagonist  who  dared  measure  his  strength  with 
him  was  Sir  Thomas  More,  who,  although  a  layman,  stoutly 
defended  the  ordinances  of  the  church. 

But  mere  table-talk  could  not  satisfy  the  dean  :  a  numer- 
ous audience  attended  his  sermons  at  St  Paul's.  The  spirit- 
uality of  Christ's  words,  the  authority  which  characterizes 
them,  their  admirable  simplicity  and  mysterious  depth,  had 
deeply  charmed  him  :  "  I  admire  the  writings  of  the  apostles," 
he  would  say,  "  but  I  forget  them  almost,  when  I  contemplate 
the  wonderful  majesty  of  Jesus  Christ."|  Setting  aside  the 
texts  prescribed  by  the  church,  he  explained,  like  Zwingle, 

*  Wherein  much  vice  and  wickedness  was  harboured.  Strypo,  i.  169. 
The  names  of  the  monasteries  are  given.  Ibid.  ii.  132. 

•f  Instituit  collegium  et  absolvit  popinam.    Fuller,  cent.  xvi.  p.  169. 

£  Ita  suspiciebat  admirabileia  illam  Christi  majestatem.  Erasm.  Epp 
707. 


134         COLET  PREACHES  THE  REFORMATION. 

the  Gospel  of  St  Matthew.  Nor  did  he  stop  here.  Taking 
advantage  of  the  Convocation,  he  delivered  a  sermon  on 
conformation  and  reformation,  which  was  one  of  the  numer- 
ous forerunners  of  the  great  reform  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
"  We  see  strange  and  heretical  ideas  appear  in  our  days,  and 
no  wonder,"  said  he.  "  But  you  must  know  there  is  no 
heresy  more  dangerous  to  the  church  than  the  vicious  lives 
of  its  priests.  A  reformation  is  needed ;  and  that  reforma- 
tion must  begin  with  the  bishops  and  be  extended  to  the 
priests.  The  clergy  once  reformed,  we  shall  proceed  to  the 
reformation  of  the  people."*  Thus  spoke  Colet,  while  the 
citizens  of  London  listened  to  him  with  rapture,  and  called 
him  a  new  Saint  Paul.-j- 

Such  discourses  could  not  be  allowed  to  pass  unpunished. 
Fitzjames,  bishop  of  London,  was  a  superstitious  obstinate 
old  man  of  eighty,  fond  of  money,  excessively  irritable,  a 
poor  theologian,  and  a  slave  to  Duns  Scotus,  the  subtle  doc- 
tor. Calling  to  his  aid  two  other  bishops  as  zealous  as  him- 
self for  the  preservation  of  abuses,  namely,  Bricot  and 
Standish,  he  denounced  the  dean  of  St  Paul's  to  Warham. 
The  archbishop  having  inquired  what  he  had  done :  "  What 
has  he  done  ?"  rejoined  the  bishop  of  London.  "  He  teaches 
that  we  must  not  worship  images  ;  he  translates  the  Lord's 
Prayer  into  English;  he  pretends  that  the  text  Feed  my 
sheep,  does  not  include  the  temporal  supplies  the  clergy 
draw  from  their  flock.  And  besides  all  this,"  he  continued 
with  some  embarrassment,  "he  has  spoken  against  those 
who  carry  their  manuscripts  into  the  pulpit  and  read  their 
sermons !"  As  this  was  the  bishop's  practice,  the  primate 
could  not  refrain  from  smiling ;  and  since  Colet  refused  to 
justify  himself,  Warham  did  so  for  him. 

From  that  time  Colet  laboured  with  fresh  zeal  to  scatter 
the  darkness.  He  devoted  the  larger  portion  of  his  fortune 
to  found  the  celebrated  school  of  St  Paul,  of  which  the 
learned  Lilly  was  the  first  master.  Two  parties,  the  Greeks 
and  the  Trojans,  entered  the  lists,  not  to  contend  with  sword 
and  spear,  as  in  the  ancient  epic,  but  with  the  tongue,  the 

*  Colet,  Sermon  to  the  Convocation. 

•*•  Pcne  apostolus  Paulus  habitus  est.    Polyd.  Virg.  p.  SIR. 


TWO  PARTIES,  THE  GREEKS  AND  TROJANS.       135 

pen,  and  sometimes  the  fist.  If  the  Trojans  (the  obscur- 
ants) were  defeated  in  the  public  disputations,  they  had 
their  revenge  in  the  secret  of  the  confessional.  Cave  a 
Greeds  ne  fias  hereticus*  was  the  watchword  of  the  priests 
— their  daily  lesson  to  the  youths  under  their  care.  They 
looked  on  the  school  founded  by  Colet  as  the  monstrous 
horse  of  the  perjured  Sinon,  and  announced  that  from  its 
bosom  would  inevitably  issue  the  destruction  of  the  people. 
Colet  and  Erasmus  replied  to  the  monks  by  inflicting  fresh 
blows.  Linacre,  a  thorough  literary  enthusiast, — Grocyn,  a 
man  of  sarcastic  humour  but  generous  heart, — and  many 
others,  reinforced  the  Grecian  phalanx.  Henry  himself 
used  to  take  one  of  them  with  him  during  his  journeys,  and 
if  any  unlucky  Trojan  ventured  in  his  presence  to  attack 
the  tongue  of  Plato  and  of  St  Paul,  the  young  king  would 
set  his  Hellenian  on  him.  Not  more  numerous  were  the 
contests  witnessed  in  times  of  yore  on  the  classic  banks  of 
Xanthus  and  Sirnois. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Wolsey — His  first  Commission — His  Complaisance  and  Dioceses— Cardi- 
nal, Chancellor,  and  Legate — Ostentation  and  Necromancy — His  Spies 
and  Enmity — Pretensions  of  the  Clergy. 

JUST  as  everything  seemed  tending  to  a  reformation,  a  power- 
ful priest  rendered  the  way  more  difficult. 

One  of  the  most  striking  personages  of  the  age  was  then 
making  his  appearance  on  the  stage  of  the  world.  It  was 
the  destiny  of  that  man,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  to 
combine  extreme  ability  with  extreme  immorality ;  and  to 
be  a  new  and  striking  example  of  the  wholesome  truth  that 
immorality  is  more  effectual  to  destroy  a  man  than  ability 
to  save  him.  Wolsey  was  the  last  high-priest  of  Rome  in 

*  Boware  of  the  Greeks,  lest  you  should  become  a  heretic. 


136          WOLSEY HIS  FIRST  SERVICES  UNDER  HENRY  VII. 

England,  and  when  his  fall  startled  the  nation,  it  was  the 
signal  of  a  still  more  striking  fall — the  fall  of  popery. 

Thomas  Wolsey,  the  son  of  a  wealthy  butcher  of  Ips- 
wich, according  to  the  common  story,  which  is  sanctioned 
by  high  authority,  had  attained  under  Henry  VII.  the  post 
of  almoner,  at  the  recommendation  of  Sir  Eichard  Nanfau, 
treasurer  of  Calais  and  an  old  patron  of  his.  But  Wolsey 
was  .not  at  all  desirous  of  passing  his  life  in  saying  mass. 
As  soon  as  he  had  discharged  the  regular  duties  of  his  office, 
instead  of  spending  the  rest  of  the  day  in  idleness,  as  his 
colleagues  did,  he  strove  to  win  the  good  graces  of  the  per- 
sons round  the  king. 

Fox,  bishop  of  Winchester,  keeper  of  the  privy-seal  un- 
der Henry  VII.,  uneasy  at  the  growing  power  of  the  earl  of 
Surrey,  looked  about  for  a  man  to  counterbalance  him.  He 
thought  he  had  found  such  a  one  in  Wolsey.  It  was  to 
oppose  the  Surreys,  the  grandfather  and  uncles  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  that  the  son  of  the  Ipswich  butcher  was  drawn 
from  his  obscurity.  This  is  not  an  unimportant  circum- 
stance in  our  narrative.  Fox  began  to  praise  Wolsey  in 
the  king's  hearing,  and  at  the  same  tima  he  encouraged  the 
almoner  to  give  himself  to  public  affairs.  The  latter  was  not 
deaf,*  and  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  winning^  his  sove- 
reign's favour. 

The  king  having  business  of  importance  with  the  em- 
peror, who  was  then  in  Flanders,  sent  for  Wolsey,  explained 
his  wishes,  and  ordered  him  to  prepare  to  set  out.  The 
chaplain  determined  to  show  Henry  VII.  how  capable  he 
was  of  serving  him.  It  was  long  past  noon  when  he  took 
(cave  of  the  king  at  Richmond — at  four  o'clock  he  was  in 
London,  at  seven  at  Gravesend.  By  travelling  all  night  he 
reached  Dover  just  as  the  packet-boat  was  about  to  sail. 
After  a  passage  of  three  hours  he  reached  Calais,  whence  he 
travelled  post,  and  the  same  evening  appeared  before  Maxi- 
milian. Having  obtained  what  he  desired,  he  set  off  again 
by  night,  and  on  the  next  day  but  one  reached  Richmond, 
three  days  and  some  few  hours  after  his  departure.  The 
king,  catching  sight  of  him  just  as  he  was  going  to  mass, 

*  lla:c  Wolseius  non  surdis  audierit  auribus.    Polyd.  Virg.  p.  622. 


HIS  ECCLESIASTICAL  PROMOTION.  137 

sharply  inquired,  why  lie  had  not  set  out.  "  Sire,  I  am  just 
returned,"  answered  Wolsey,  placing  the  emperor's  letters  in 
his  master's  hands.  Henry  was  delighted,  and  Wolsey  saw 
that  his  fortune  was  made. 

The  courtiers  hoped  at  first  that  Wolsey,  like  an  inexpe- 
rienced pilot,  would  run  his  vessel  on  some  hidden  rqck ; 
but  never  did  helmsman  manage  his  ship  with  more  skill. 
Although  twenty  years  older  than  Henry  VIII.  the  almoner 
danced,  and  sang,  and  laughed  with  the  prince's  companions, 
and  amused  his  new  master  with  tales  of  scandal  and  quota- 
tions from  Thomas  Aquinas.  The  young  king  found  his 
house  a  temple  of  paganism,  a  shrine  of  voluptuousness;* 
and  while  Henry's  councillors  were  entreating  him  to  leave 
his  pleasures  and  attend  to  business,  Wolsey  was  contin- 
ually reminding  him  that  he  ought  to  devote  his  youth  to 
learning  and  amusement,  and  leave  the  toils  of  government 
to  others.  Wolsey  was  created  bishop  of  Tournay  during 
the  campaign  in  Flanders,  and  on  his  return  to  England, 
was  raised  to  the  sees  of  Lincoln  and  of  York.  Three  mitres 
had  been  placed  on  his  head  in  one  year.  He  found  at  last 
the  vein  he  so  ardently  sought  for. 

And  yet  he  was  not  satisfied.  The  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury had  insisted,  as  primate,  that  the  cross  of  York 
should  be  lowered  to  his.  Wolsey  was  not  of  a  disposition 
to  concede  this,  and  when  he  found  that  Warham  was  not 
content  with  being  his  equal,  he  resolved  to  make  him  his 
inferior.  He  wrote  to  Paris  and  to  Rome.  Francis  I.,  who 
desired  to  conciliate  England,  demanded  the  purple  for  Wol- 
sey, and  the  archbishop  of  York  received  the  title  of  Cardinal 
St  Cecilia  beyond  the  Tiber.  In  November  1515,  his  hat 
was  brought  by  the  envoy  of  the  pope :  "  It  would  have 
been  better  to  have  given  him  a  Tyburn  tippet,"  said  some 
indignant  Englishmen ;  "  these  Romish  hats  never  brought 
good  into  England"  •{• — a  saying  that  has  become  proverbial. 

This  was  not  enough  for  Wolsey  :  he  desired  secular  great- 
ness above  all  things.  Warham,  tired  of  contending  with  so 
arrogant  a  rival,  resigned  the  seals,  and  the  king  immo- 

*  Dotni  sure  voluptatum  omnium  sacrarium  fecit.    Polyd.  Virg.  p.  623 
t  Latimer's  Sermons  (Parker  Society),  jv  1 19. 
VOL.  V.  7 


138  WOLSEY'S  OSTENTATION. 

diately  transferred  them  to  the  cardinal.  At  length  a  bull 
appointed  him  legate  a  latere  of  the  holy  see,  and  placed  un- 
der his  jurisdiction  all  the  colleges,  monasteries,  spiritual 
courts,  bishops,  and  the  primate  himself  (1519).  From  that 
time,  as  lord-chancellor  of  England  and  legate,  Wolsey 
administered  everything  in  church  and  state.  He  filled  his 
coffers  with  money  procured  both  at  home  and  from  abroad, 
and  yielded  without  restraint  to  his  dominant  vices,  ostenta- 
tion and  pride.  Whenever  he  appeared  in  public,  two  priests, 
the  tallest  and  comeliest  that  could  be  found,  carried  before 
him  two  huge  silver  crosses,  one  to  mark  his  dignity  as 
archbishop,  the  other  as  papal  legate. »  Chamberlains,  gen- 
tlemen, pages,  sergeants,  chaplains,  choristers,  clerks,  cup- 
bearers, cooks,  and  other  domestics,  to  the  number  of  more 
than  500,  among  whom  were  nine  or  ten  lords  and  the  state- 
liest yeomen  of  the  country,  filled  his  palace.  He  generally 
wore  a  dress  of  scarlet  velvet  and  silk,  with  hat  and  gloves 
of  the  same  colour.  His  shoes  were  embroidered  with  gold 
and  silver,  inlaid  with  pearls  and  precious  stones.  A  kind  of 
papacy  was  thus  forming  in  England ;  for  wherever  pride 
flourishes  there  popery  is  developed. 

One  thing  occupied  Wolsey  more  than  all  the  pomp  with 
which  he  was  surrounded :  his  desire,  namely,  to  captivate 
the  king.  For  this  purpose  he  cast  Henry's  nativity,  and 
procured  an  amulet  which  he  wore  constantly,  in  order  to 
charm  his  master  by  its  magic  properties.*  Then  having  re- 
course to  a  still  more  effectual  necromancy,  he  selected  from 
among  the  licentious  companions  of  the  young  monarch 
those  of  the  keenest  discernment  and  most  ambitious  charac- 
ter ;  and  after  binding  them  to  him  by  a  solemn  oath,  he 
placed  them  at  court  to  be  as  eyes  and  ears  to  him.  Accord- 
ingly not  a  word  was  said  in  the  presence  of  the  monarch, 
particularly  against  Wolsey,  of  which  he  was  not  informed 
an  hour  afterwards.  If  the  culprit  was  not  in  favour,  he 
was  expelled  without  mercy ;  in  the  contrary  case,  the  minis- 
ter sent  him  on  some  distant  mission.  The  queen's  ladies, 

*  He  calked  [calculated]  the  king's  nativity he  made  by  craft  of 

necromancy  graven  imagery  to  bear  upon  him,  wherewith  he  bewitched 
the  king's  mind.  Tyndale's  Expositions  (Parker  Soe.),  p.  303. 


HATED  BY  THE  PEOPLE.  139 

the  king's  chaplains,  and  even  their  confessois,  were  the  car- 
dinal's spies.  He  pretended  to  omnipresence,  as  the  pope  to 
infallibility. 

Wolsey  was  not  devoid  of  certain  showy  virtues,  for  he 
was  liberal  to  the  poor  even  to  affectation,  and  as  chancellor 
inexorable  to  every  kind  of  irregularity,  and  strove  particu- 
larly to  make  the  rich  and  high-born  bend  beneath  his 
power.  Men  of  learning  alone  obtained  from  him  some  lit- 
tle attention,  and  hence  Erasmus  calls  him  "  the  Achates  of 
a  new  JEneas."  But  the  nation  was  not  to  be  carried  away 
by  the  eulogies  of  a  few  scholars.  Wolsey — a  man  of  more 
than  suspected  morals,  double-hearted,  faithless  to  his  pro- 
mises, oppressing  the  people  with  heavy  taxes,  and  exceed- 
ingly arrogant  to  everybody — Wolsey  soon  became  hated 
by  the  people  of  England. 

The  elevation  of  a  prince  of  the  Roman  Church  could  not 
be  favourable  to  the  Reformation.  The  priests,  encouraged 
by  it,  determined  to  make  a  stand  against  the  triple  attack 
of  the  learned,  the  reformers,  and  the  state ;  and  they  soon 
had  an  opportunity  of  trying  their  strength.  Holy  orders 
had  become  during  the  middle  ages  a  warrant  for  every  sort 
of  crime.  Parliament,  desirous  of  correcting  this  abuse  and 
checking  the  encroachments  of  the  church,  declared  in  the 
year  1513,  that  any  ecclesiastic,  accused  of  theft  or  murder, 
should  be  tried  before  the  secular  tribunals.  Exceptions, 
however,  were  made  in  favour  of  bishops,  priests,  and  dea- 
cons— that  is  to  say,  nearly  all  the  clergy.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  timid  precaution,  an  insolent  clerk,  the  abbot  of 
Winchelcomb,  began  the  battle  by  exclaiming  at  St  Paul's : 
"  Touch  not  mine  anointed,  said  the  Lord."  At  the  same 
time  Wolsey,  accompanied  by  a  long  train  of  priests  and 
prelates,  had  an  audience  of  the  king,  at  which  he  said  with 
hands  upraised  to  heaven :  "  Sire,  to  try  a  clerk,  is  a  viola- 
tion of  God's  laws."  This  time,  however,  Henry  did  not 
give  way.  "  By  God's  will,  we  are  king  of  England,"  he  re- 
plied, "  and  the  kings  of  England  in  times  past  had  never 
any  superior  but  God  onlv.  Therefore  know  you  well  that 
we  will  maintain  the  right  of  our  crown."  He  saw  distinctly 
that  to  put  the  clergy  above  the  laws  was  to  put  them  above 


140  THK  WOLVES — RICHARD  HUN. 

the  throne.  The  priests  were  beaten,  but  not  disheartened : 
perseverance  is  a  characteristic  feature  of  every  hierarchical 
order.  Not  walking  by  faith,  they  walk  all  the  more  by 
sight ;  and  skilful  combinations  supply  the  place  of  the  holy 
aspirations  of  the  Christian.  Humble  disciples  of  the  gospel 
were  soon  to  experience  this,  for  the  clergy  by  a  few  isolated 
attacks  were  about  to  flesh  themselves  for  the  great  strug- 
gles of  the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  Wolves— Richard  Hun — A  Murder— Verdict  of  the  Jury — Hun  con- 
demned, and  his  Character  vindicated — The  Gravesend  Passage-boat — 
A  Festival  disturbed — Brown  tortured — Visit  from  his  Wife — A  Mar- 
tyr—Character of  Erasmus— 1516  and  1517 — Erasmus  goes  to  Basle. 

IT  is  occasionally  necessary  to  soften  down  the  somewhat 
exaggerated  colours  in  which  contemporary  writers  describe 
the  Romish  clergy ;  but  there  are  certain  appellations  which 
history  is  bound  to  accept.  The  wolves,  for  so  the  priests 
were  called,  by  attacking  the  Lords  and  Commons  had  at- 
tempted a  work  beyond  their  reach.  They  turned  their 
wrath  on  others.  There  were  many  shepherds  endeavouring 
to  gather  together  the  sheep  of  the  Lord  beside  the  peaceful 
waters :  these  must  be  frightened,  and  the  sheep  driven  into 
the  howling  wilderness.  "  The  wolves "  determined  to  fall 
upon  the  Lollards. 

There  lived  in  London  an  honest  tradesman  named  Rich- 
ard Hun,  one  of  those  witnesses  of  the  truth  who,  sincere 
though  unenlightened,  have  been  often  found  in  the  bosom 
of  Catholicism.  It  was  his  practice  to  retire  to  his  closet 
and  spend  a  portion  of  each  day  in  the  study  of  the  Bible. 
At  the  death  of  one  of  his  children,  the  priest  required  of  him 
an  exorbitant  fee,  which  Hun  refused  to  pay,  and  for  which 
he  was  summoned  before  the  legate's  court.  Animated  by 
that  public  spirit  which  characterizes  the  people  of  England, 


HUN  IM  THE  LO.  LARDS*  TOWER.  141 

he  felt  indignant  that  an  Englishman  should  be  cited  before 
a  foreign  tribunal,  and  laid  an  information  against  the  priest 
and  his  counsel  under  the  act  of  prcemunire.  Such  boldness 
— most  extraordinary  at  that  time — exasperated  the  clergy 
beyond  all  bounds.  "  If  these  proud  citizens  are  allowed  to 
have  their  way,"  exclaimed  the  monks,  "  every  layman  will 
dare  to  resist  a  priest." 

Exertions  were  accordingly  made  to  snare  the  pretended 
rebel  in  the  trap  of  heresy  ;  *  he  was  thrown  into  the 
Lollards'  tower  at  St  Paul's,  and  an  iron  collar  was  fas- 
tened round  his  neck,  attached  to  which  was  a  chain  so 
heavy  that  neither  man  nor  beast  (says  Foxe)  would  have 
been  able  to  bear  it  long.  When  taken  before  his  judges, 
they  could  not  convict  him  of  heresy,  and  it  was  observed 
with  astonishment  "  that  he  had  his  beads  in  prison  with 
him."-}-  They  would  have  set  him  at  liberty,  after  inflicting 
on  him  perhaps  some  trifling  penance — but  then,  what  a  bad 
example  it  would  be,  and  who  could  stop  the  reformers,  if  it 
was  so  easy  to  resist  the  papacy  ?  Unable  to  triumph  by 
justice,  certain  fanatics  resolved  to  triumph  by  crime. 

At  midnight  on  the  2d  December — the  day  of  his  exami- 
nation— three  men  stealthily  ascended  the  stairs  of  the  Lol- 
lards' tower :  the  bellringer  went  first  carrying  a  torch ;  a 
sergeant  named  Charles  Joseph  followed,  and  last  came  the 
bishop's  chancellor.  Having  entered  the  cell,  they  went  up 
to  the  bed  on  which  Hun  was  lying,  and  finding  that  he 
was  asleep,  the  chancellor  said :  "  Lay  hands  on  the  thief," 
Charles  Joseph  and  the  bellringer  fell  upon  the  prisoner,  who, 
awaking  with  a  start,  saw  at  a  glance  what  this  midnight 
visit  meant.  He  resisted  the  assassins  at  first,  but  was  soon 
overpowered  and  strangled.  Charles  Joseph  then  fixed  the 
dead  man's  belt  round  his  neck,  the  bellringer  helped  to  raise 
his  lifeless  body,  and  the  chancellor  slipped  the  other  end  of 
the  belt  through  a  ring  fixed  in  the  wall.  They  then  placed 
his  cap  on  his  head,  and  hastily  quitted  the  cell."J  Imme- 
diately after,  the  conscience-stricken  Charles  Joseph  got  on 

*  Foxe,  Acts  and  Mon.  55.  p.  8.    Folio,  1684,  Lond.  f  Ibid. 

£  Ibid.  p.  13.    "And  so  all  we  murdered  Hun and  so  Hun  was 

hanged."    (Evidence  of  Charles  Joseph.) 


142         RICHAED  HUN'S  MURDER — VERDICT  OF  THE  JURY. 

horseback  and  rode  from  the  city;  the  bellringer  left  the 
cathedral  and  hid  himself :  the  crime  dispersed  the  criminals. 
The  chancellor  alone  kept  his  ground,  and  he  was  at  prayers 
when  the  news  was  brought  him  that  the  turnkey  had  found 
Hun  hanging.  "  He  must  have  killed  himself  in  despair  " 
said  the  hypocrite.  But  every  one  knew  poor  Hun's  Chris- 
tian feelings.  "  It  is  the  priests  who  have  murdered  him," 
was  the  general  cry  in  London,  and  an  inquest  was  ordered 
to  be  held  on  his  body. 

On  Tuesday,  the  5th  of  December,  William  Barnwell  the 
city  coroner,  the  two  sheriffs,  and  twenty-four  jurymen,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Lollards'  tower.  They  remarked  that  the  belt 
was  so  short  that  the  head  could  not  be  got  out  of  it,  and 
that  consequently  it  had  never  been  placed  in  it  voluntarily, 
and  hence  the  jury  concluded  that  the  suspension  was  an 
after-thought  of  some  other  persons.  Moreover  they  found 
that  the  ring  was  too  high  for  the  poor  victim  to  reach  it, — 
that  the  body  bore  marks  of  violence — and  that  traces  of 
blood  were  to  be  seen  in  the  cell :  "  Wherefore  all  we  find  by 
God  and  all  our  consciences  (runs  the  verdict),  that  Richard 
Hun  was  murdered.  Also  we  acquit  the  said  Richard  Hun 
of  his  own  death."* 

It  was  but  too  true,  and  the  criminals  themselves  confessed 
it.  The  miserable  Charles  Joseph  having  returned  home  on 
the  evening  of  the  6th  December,  said  to  his  maid-servant : 
"  If  you  will  swear  to  keep  my  secret,  I  will  tell  you  all." — 
"  Yes,  master,"  she  replied,  "  if  it  is  neither  felony  nor  trea- 
son."— Joseph  took  a  book,  swore  the  girl  on  it,  and  then 
said  to  her :  "  I  have  killed  Richard  Hun ! " — "  0  master ! 
how  ?  he  was  called  a  worthy  man." — "  I  would  lever 
[rather]  than  a  hundred  pounds  it  were  not  done,"  he  made 
answer ;  "  but  what  is  done  cannot  be  undone."  He  then 
rushed  out  of  the  house. 

The  clergy  foresaw  what  a  serious  blow  this  unhappy 
affair  would  be  to  them,  and  to  justify  themselves  they  ex- 
amined Hun's  Bible  (it  was  Wickliffe's  version),  and  having 
read  in  the  preface  that "  poor  men  and  idiots  [simple  folks] 

*  For  particulars  of  the  Inquest,  see  Foxe,  Acts  and  Mon.  ii.  p.  14. 


HUN  CONDEMNED HIS  CHARACTER  VINDICATED.  143 

have  the  truth  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  more  than  a  thousand 
prelates  and  religious  men  and  clerks  of  the  school,"  and 
further,  that  "  the  pope  ought  to  be  called  Antichrist,"  the 
bishop  of  London,  assisted  by  the  bishops  of  Durham  and 
Lincoln,  declared  Hun  guilty  of  heresy,  and  on  the  20th 
December  his  dead  body  was  burnt  at  Smithfield.  "  Hun's 
bones  have  been  burnt,  and  therefore  he  was  a  heretic,"  said 
the  priests ;  "  he  was  a  heretic,  and  therefore  he  committed 
suicide." 

The  triumph  of  the  clergy  was  of  short  duration ;  for  al- 
most at  the  same  time  William  Horsey,  the  bishop's  chan- 
cellor, Charles  Joseph,  and  John  Spalding  the  bellringer, 
were  convicted  of  the  murder.  A  bill  passed  the  Commons 
restoring  Hun's  property  to  his  family  and  vindicating  his 
„  character ;  the  Lords  accepted  the  bill,  and  the  king  himself 
said  to  the  priests :  "  Restore  to  these  wretched  children  the 
"  property  of  their  father,  whom  you  so  cruelly  murdered,  to 
our  great  and  just  horror."* — "If  the  clerical  theocracy 
should  gain  the  mastery  of  the  state,"  was  the  general  re- 
mark in  London,  "  it  would  not  only  be  a  very  great  lie,  but 
the  most  frightful  tyranny ! "  England  has  never  gone  back 
since  that  time,  and  a  theocratic  rule  has  always  inspired  the 
sound  portion  of  the  nation  with  a  just  and  insurmountable 
antipathy.  Such  were  the  events  taking  place  in  England 
shortly  before  the  Reformation.  This  was  not  all. 

The  clergy  had  not  been  fortunate  in  Hun's  affair,  but 
they  were  not  for  that  reason  unwilling  to  attempt  a  new 
one. 

In  the  spring  of  1517 — the  year  in  which  Luther  posted 
up  his  theses — a  priest,  whose  manners  announced  a  man 
swollen  with  pride,  happened  to  be  on  board  the  passage- 
boat  from  London  to  Gravesend  with  an  intelligent  and  pious 
Christian  of  Ashford,  by  name  John  Brown.  The  passen- 
gers, as  they  floated  down  the  stream,  were  amusing  them- 
selves by  watching  the  banks  glide  away  from  them,  when 
the  priest,  turning  towards  Brown,  said  to  him  insolently : 
"  You  are  too  near  me,  get  farther  off.  Do  you  know  who  I 
am  ?" — "  No,  sir,"  answered  Brown. — "  Well,  then,  you  must 
*  Verdict  on  the  Inquest ;  Foxe,  p.  12. 


144        THE  GBAVESEND  BOA! — JOHN  BROWN. 

know  that  I  am  a  priest." — "  Indeed,  sir ;  are  you  a  parson,  or 
vicar,  or  a  lady's  chaplain  ?" — "  No ;  I  am  a  soul-priest"  he 
haughtily  replied ;  "  I  sing  mass  to  save  souls." — "  Do  you, 
sir,"  rejoined  Brown  somewhat  ironically,  "  that  is  well  done  ; 
and  can  you  tell  me  where  you  find  the  soul  when  you  be- 
gin the  mass?" — "  I  cannot,"  said  the  priest. — "And  where 
you  leave  it  when  the  mass  is  ended?" — "  I  do  not  know." 
— "  What!"  continued  Brown  with  marks  of  astonishment, 
"  you  do  not  know  where  you  find  the  soul  or  where  you  leave 

it and  yet  you  say  that  you  save  it !" — "  Go  thy  ways," 

said  the  priest  angrily,  "  thou  art  a  heretic,  and  I  will  be  even 
with  thee."  Thenceforward  the  priest  and  his  neighbour 
conversed  no  more  together.  At  last  they  reached  Graves- 
end  and  the  boat  anchored. 

As  soon  as  the  priest  had  landed,  he  hastened  to  two  of , 
his  friends,  Walter  and  William  More,  and  all  three  mount- 
ing their  horses  set  off  for  Canterbury,  and  denounced  Brown 
to  the  archbishop. 

In  the  meantime  John  Brown  had  reached  home.  Three 
days  later,  his  wife,  Elizabeth,  who  had  just  left  her  cham- 
ber, went  to  church,  dressed  all  in  white,  to  return  thanks  to 
God  for  delivering  her  in  the  perils  of  childbirth.  Her  hus- 
band, assisted  by  her  daughter  Alice  and  the  maid-servant, 
were  preparing  for  their  friends  the  feast  usual  on  such 
occasions,  and  they  had  all  of  them  taken  their  seats  at 
table,  joy  beaming  on  every  face,  when  the  street-door  was 
abruptly  opened,  and  Chilton,  the  constable,  a  cruel  and 
savage  man,  accompanied  by  several  of  the  archbishop's  aj>- 
paritors,  seized  upon  the  worthy  townsman.  All  sprang 
from  their  seats  in  alarm ;  Elizabeth  and  Alice  uttered  the 
most  heartrending  cries ;  but  the  primate's  officers,  without 
showing  any  emotion,  pulled  Brown  out  of  the  house,  and 
placed  him  on  horseback,  tying  his  feet  under  the  animal's 
belly.*  It  is  a  serious  matter  to  jest  with  a  priest.  The 
cavalcade  rode  off  quickly,  and  Brown  was  thrown  into  pri- 
son, and  there  left  forty  days. 

At  the  end  of  this  time,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury 
and  the  bishop  of  Rochester  called  before  them   the  im- 
*  Foxe,  Acts,  ii.  p.  7.    His  feet  bound  under  his  own  horse. 


BROWN  I CT  TO  THE  TORTURE.  145 

ptident  fellow  who  doubted  whether  a  priest's  mass  could 
save  souls,  and  required  him  to  retract  this  "  blasphemy." 
But  Brown,  if  he  did  not  believe  in  the  mass,  believed 
in  the  gospel :  "  Christ  was  once  offered,"  he  said,  "  to 
take  away  the  sins  of  many.  It  is  by  this  sacrifice  we 
are  saved,  and  not  by  the  repetitions  of  the  priests."  At 
this  reply  the  archbishop  made  a  sign  to  the  executioners, 
one  of  whom  took  off  the  shoes  and  stockings  of  this  pious 
Christian,  while  the  other  brought  in  a  pan  of  burning 
coals,  upon  which  they  set  the  martyr's  feet.*  The  English 
laws  in  truth  forbade  torture  to  be  inflicted  on  any  subject 
of  the  crown,  but  the  clergy  thought  themselves  above  the 
laws.  "  Confess  the  efficacity  of  Ae  mass,"  cried  the  two 
bishops  to  poor  Brown.  "  If  I  deny  my  Lord  upon  earth," 
he  replied,  "  He  will  deny  me  before  his  Father  in  heaven." 
The  flesh  was  burnt  off  the  soles  of  the  feet  even  to  the 
bones,  and  still  John  Brown  remained  unshaken.  The 
bishops  therefore  ordered  him  to  be  given  over  to  the  secu- 
lar arm  that  he  might  be  burnt  alive. 

On  the  Saturday  preceding  the  festival  of  Pentecost,  in  the 
year  1517,  the  martyr  was  led  back  to  Ashford,  where  he 
arrived  just  as  the  day  was  drawing  to  a  close.  A  number 
of  idle  persons  were  collected  in  the  street,  and  among  them 
was  Brown's  maid-servant,  who  ran  off  crying  to  the  house, 

and  told  her  mistress :  "  I  have  seen  him He  was  bound, 

and  they  weic  taking  him  to  prison."  7  Elizabeth  hastened 
to  her  husband  and  found  him  sitting  with  his  feet  in  the 
stocks,  his  features  changed  by  suffering,  and  expecting  to 
be  burnt  alive  on  the  morrow.  The  poor  woman  sat  down 
beside  him,  weeping  most  bitterly ;  while  he,  being  hindered 
by  his  chains,  could  not  so  much  as  bend  towards  her.  "  I 
cannot  set  my  feet  to  the  ground,"  said  he,  "  for  bishops  have 
burnt  them  to  the  bones ;  but  they  could  not  burn  my  tongue 

and  prevent  my  confessing  the  Lord 0  Elizabeth! 

continue  to  love  him  for  He  is  good ;  and  bring  up  oui 
children  in  his  fear." 

*  His  bare  feet  were  set  upon  hot  burning  coals.  The  Lollards  (edit. 
Tract  Soc.),  p.  140. 

t  A  young  maid  of  his  house  coming  by  saw  her  master,  she  rail 
home.  The  Lollard-,  p.  50. 

7«  o 


146  BROWN'S  MARTYRDOM. 

On  the  following  morning — it  was  Whitsunday — the 
brntal  Chilton  and  his  assistants  led  Brown  to  the  place  of 
execution,  and  fastened  him  to  the  stake.  Elizabeth  and 
Alice,  with  his  other  children  and  his  friends,  desirous  of  re- 
ceiving his  last  sigh,  surrounded  the  pile,  uttering  cries  of 
anguish.  The  fagots  were  set  on  fire ;  while  Brown,  calm 
and  collected,  and  full  of  confidence  in  the  blood  of  the 
Saviour,  clasped  his  hands,  and  repeated  this  hymn,  which 
Foxe  has  preserved : — * 

O  Lord,  I  yield  me  to  thy  grace, 
Grant  me  mercy  for  my  trespass  ; 
Let  never  the  fiend  my  soul  chase. 
Lord,  I  will  DOW,  and  thou  shalt  beat, 
Let  never  my  soul  come  in  hell-heat. 

The  martyr  was  silent:  the  flames  had  consumed  their 
victim.  Then  redoubled  cries  of  anguish  rent  the  air.  His 
wife  and  daughter  seemed  as  if  they  would  lose  their  senses. 
The  bystanders  showed  them  the  tenderest  compassion,  and 
turned  with  a  movement  of  indignation  towards  the  execu- 
tioners. The  brutal  Chilton  perceiving  this,  cried  out: — 
"Come  along;  let  us  toss  the  heretic's  children  into  the 
flames,  lest  they  should  one  day  spring  from  their  father's 
ashes."-]-  He  rushed  towards  Alice,  and  was  about  to  lay 
hold  of  her,  when  the  maiden  shrank  back  screaming  with 
horror.  To  the  end  of  her  life,  she  recollected  the  fearful 
moment,  and  to  her  we  are  indebted  for  the  particulars.  The 
fury  of  the  monster  was  checked.  Such  were  the  scenes 
passing  in  England  shortly  before  the  Reformation. 

The  priests  were  not  yet  satisfied,  for  the  scholars  still 
remained  in  England :  if  they  could  not  be  burnt,  they 
should  at  least  be  banished.  They  set  to  work  accordingly. 
Standish,  bishop  of  St  Asaph,  a  sincere  man,  as  it  would 
seem,  but  fanatical,  was  inveterate  in  his  hatred  of  Erasmus, 
who  had  irritated  him  by  an  idle  sarcasm.  When  speaking 
of  St  AsapVs  it  was  very  common  to  abbreviate  it  into  S( 

*  Foxe,  Acts  and  Mon.  ii.  p.  8  (folio,  1684),  iv.  p.  132  (Lond.  1838). 
We  shall  ;'n  future  refer  to  the  latter  edition,  as  being  more  accessible. 

t  Bade  >ast  in  his  children  also,  for  they  would  spring  of  his  ashes. 
Ibid. 


CHARACTER  OF  ERASMUS.  147 

As's  ;  and  as  Standish  was  a  theologian  of  no  great  learning, 
Erasmus,  in  his  jesting  way,  would  sometimes  call  him 
Eplscppus  a  Sancto  Asino.  As  the  bishop  could  not  destroy 
Colet,  the  disciple,  he  flattered  himself  that  he  should  triumph 
over  the  master. 

Erasmus  knew  Standish's  intentions.  Should  he  com- 
mence in  England  that  struggle  with  the  papacy  which 
Luther  was  about  to  begin  in  Germany  ?  It  was  no  longer 
possible  to  steer  a  middle  course :  he  must  either  fight  or 
leave.  The  Dutchman  was  faithful  to  his  nature — we  may 
even  say,  to  his  vocation :  he  left  the  country. 

Erasmus  was,  in  his  time,  the  head  of  the  great  literary 
community.  By  means  of  his  connexions  and  his  corre- 
spondence, which  extended  over  all  Europe,  he  established 
between  those  countries  where  learning  was  reviving,  an 
interchange  of  ideas  and  manuscripts.  The  pioneer  of  an- 
tiquity, an  eminent  critic,  a  witty  satirist,  the  advocate  of 
correct  taste,  and  a  restorer  of  literature,  one  only  glory  was 
wanting :  he  had  not  the  creative  spirit,  the  heroic  soul  of  a 
Luther.  He  calculated  with  no  little  skill,  could  detect  the 
smile  on  the  lips  or  the  knitting  of  the  brows ;  but  he  had 
not  that  self-abandonment,  that  enthusiasm  for  the  truth, 
that  firm  confidence  in  God,  without  which  nothing  great 
can  be  done  in  the  world,  and  least  of  all  in  the  church. 
"  Erasmus  had  much,  but  was  little,"  said  one  of  his  bio- 
graphers.* 

In  the  year  1517,  a  crisis  had  arrived  :  the  period  of  the 
revival  was  over,  that  of  the  Reformation  was  beginning. 
The  restoration  of  letters  was  succeeded  by  the  regeneration 
of  religion :  the  days  of  criticism  and  neutrah'ty  by  those  of 
courage  and  action.  Erasmus  was  then  only  forty-nine 
years  old ;  but  he  had  finished  his  career.  From  being  first, 
he  must  now  be  second :  -the  monk  of  Wittemberg  dethroned 
him.  He  looked  around  himself  in  vain :  placed  in  a  new 
country,  he  had  lost  his  road.  «A  hero  was  needed  to  in- 
augurate the  great  movement  of  modern  times :  Erasmus 
was  a  mere  man  of  letters. 

When  attacked  by  Standish  in  1516,  the  literary  king 
•  Ad.  Muller. 


148  ERASMUS  GOES  TO  BASLE. 

determined  to  quit  the  court  of  England,  and  take  refuge  in 
a  printing-office.  But  before  laying  down  his  sceptre  at  the 
toot  of  a  Saxon  monk,  he  signalized  the  end  of  his  reign  by 
the  most  brilliant  of  his  publications.  The  epoch  of  1516-17, 
memorable  for  the  theses  of  Luther,  was  destined  to  be 
equally  remarkable  by  a  work  which  was  to  imprint  on  the 
new  times  their  essential  character.  What  distinguishes 
the  Reformation  from  all  anterior  revivals  is  the  union  of 
learning  with  piety,  and  a  faith  more  profound,  more  en- 
lightened, and  based  on  the  word  of  God.  The  Christian 
people  was  then  emancipated  from  the  tutelage  of  the  schools 
and  the  popes,  and  its  charter  of  enfranchisement  was  the 
Bible.  The  sixteenth  century  did  more  than  its  predecessors : 
it  went  straight  to  the  fountain  (the  Holy  Scriptures),  cleared 
it  of  weeds  and  brambles,  plumbed  its  depths,  and  caused  its 
abundant  streams  to  pour  forth  on  all  around.  The  Refor- 
mation age  studied  the  Greek  Testament,  which  the  clerical 
age  had  almost  forgotten, — and  this  is  its  greatest  glory. 
Now  the  first  explorer  of  this  divine  source  was  Erasmus. 
"When  attacked  by  the  hierarchy,  the  leader  of  the  schools 
withdrew  from  the  splendid  halls  of  Henry  VIII.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  the  new  era  which  he  had  announced  to  the 
world  was  rudely  interrupted :  he  could  do  nothing  more  by 
his  conversation  for  the  country  of  the  Tudors.  But  he 
carried  with  him  those  precious  leaves,  the  fruit  of  his 
labours — a  book  which  would  do  more  than  he  desired.  He 
hastened  to  Basle,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  Frobenius's 
printing-office,*  where  he  not  only  laboured  himself,  but 
made  others  labour.  England  will  soon  receive  the  seed  ol 
the  new  life,  and  the  Reformation  is  about  to  begin. 

*  Frobenio,  ut  nullius  ofiicince  plus  debeant  sacrarum  stadia  literaruin 
Erasm.  Ep.  p.  330. 


BOOK  XVIII. 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Four  reforming  Powers — Which  reformed  England ! — Papal  Reform  ! — 
Episcopal  Reform  * — Royal  Reform 1 — What  is  required  in  a  legitimate 
Reform  ?— The  Share  of  the  Kingly  Power— Share  of  the  Episcopal  Au- 
thority— High  and  Low  Church— Political  Events — The  Greek  and 
Latin  New  Testament— Thoughts  of  Erasmus— Enthusiasm  and  Anger 
— Desire  of  Erasmus — Clamours  of  the  Priests — Their  attack  at  Court — 
Astonishment  of  Erasmus  — His  Labours  for  this  Work — Edward  Lee  ; 
his  Character — Lee's  Tragedy— Conspiracy. 

IT  was  within  the  province  of  four  powers  in  the  sixteenth 
century  to  effect  a  reformation  of  the  church  :  these  were  the 
papacy,  the  episcopate,  the  monarchy,  and  Holy  Scripture. 

The  Reformation  in  England  was  essentially  the  work  oi 
Scripture. 

The  only  true  Reformation  is  that  which  emanates  from 
the  word  of  God.  The  Holy  Scriptures,  by  bearing  witness 
to  the  incarnation,  death,  and  resurrection  of  the  Son  of  God, 
create  in  man  by  the  Holy  Ghost  a  faith  which  justifies  him. 
That  faith,  which  produces  in  him  a  new  life,  unites  him  to 
Christ,  without  his  requiring  a  chain  of  bishops  or  a  Roman 
mediator,  who  would  separate  him  from  the  Saviour  instead 
of  drawing  him  nearer.  This  Reformation  by  the  word  re- 
stores that  spiritual  Christianity  which  the  outward  and 
hierarchical  religion  had  destroyed ;  and  from  the  regenera- 
tion of  individuals  naturally  results  the  regeneration  of  the 
church. 

The  Reformation  of  England,  perhaps  to  a  greater  extent 
than  that  of  the  continent,  was  effected  by  the  word  of  God. 
This  statement  may  appear  paradoxical,  but  it  is  not  the 


150  DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  REFORM. 

less  true.  Those  great  individualities  we  meet  with  in  Ger- 
many, Switzerland,  and  France — men  like  Luther,  Zwingle, 
and  Calvin — do  not  appear  in  England ;  but  Holy  Scripture 
is  widely  circulated.  What  brought  light  into  the  British 
isles  subsequently  to  the  year  1517,  and  on  a  more  extended 
scale  after  the  year  1526,  was  the  word — the  invisible  power 
of  the  invisible  God.  The  religion  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race 
— a  race  called  more  than  any  other  to  circulate  the  oracles 
of  God  throughout  the  world — is  particularly  distinguished 
by  its  biblical  character. 

The  Reformation  of  England  could  not  be  papal.  No  re- 
form can  be  hoped  from  that  which  ought  to  be  not  only 
reformed,  but  abolished ;  and  besides,  no  monarch  dethrones 
himself.  We  may  even  affirm  that  the  popedom  has  always 
felt  a  peculiar  affection  for  its  conquests  in  Britain,  and  that 
they  would  have  been  the  last  it  would  have  renounced.  A 
serious  voice  had  declared  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century :  "  A  reform  is  neither  in  the  will  nor  in  the  power 
of  the  popes."* 

The  Reformation  of  England  was  not  episcopal.  Roman 
nierarchism  will  never  be  abolished  by  Roman  bishops. 
An  episcopal  assembly  may  perhaps,  as  at  Constance,  de- 
pose three  competing  popes,  but  then  it  will  be  to  save  the 
papacy.  And  if  the  bishops  could  not  abolish  the  papacy, 
still  less  could  they  reform  themselves.  The  then  existing 
episcopal  power,  being  at  enmity  with  the  word  of  God,  and 
the  slave  of  its  own  abuses,  was  incapable  of  renovating  the 
church.  On  the  contrary,  it  exerted  all  its  influence  to  pre- 
vent such  a  renovation. 

The  Reformation  in  England  was  not  royal.  Samuel, 
David,  and  Josiah  were  able  to  do  something  for  the  raising 
up  of  the  church,  when  God  again  turned  his  face  towards 
it ;  but  a  king  cannot  rob  his  people  of  their  religion,  and 
still  less  can  he  give  them  one.  It  has  often  been  repeated 
that  "  the  English  Reformation  derives  its  origin  from  the 
monarch ;"  but  the  assertion  is  incorrect.  The  work  of  God, 
here  as  elsewhere,  cannot  be  put  in  comparison  with  the 

*  James  of  Juterbock,  prior  of  the  Carthusians  :  De  septem  eccleeiae 

etatibi*  opusoulum. 


HUMAN  ELEMENTS.  151 

work  of  the  king ;  and  if  the  latter  was  infinitely  surpassed 
in  importance,  it  was  also  preceded  in  time  by  many  years. 
The  monarch  was  still  keeping  up  a  vigorous  resistance  be- 
hind his  intrenchments,  when  God  had  already  decided  the 
victory  along  the  whole  line  of  operations. 

Shall  we  be  told  that  a  reform  effected  by  any  other  prin- 
ciple than  the  established  authorities,  both  in  church  and 
state,  would  have  been  a  revolution?  But  has  God,  the 
lawful  sovereign  of  the  church,  forbidden  all  revolution  in  a 
sinful  world  ?  A  revolution  is  not  a  revolt.  The  fall  of  the 
first  man  was  a  great  revolution :  the  restoration  of  man  by 
Jesus  Christ  was  a  counter-revolution.  The  corruption 
occasioned  by  popery  was  allied  to  the  fall :  the  reformation 
accomplished  in  the  sixteenth  century  was  connected  there- 
fore with  the  restoration.  There  will  no  doubt  be  other 
interventions  of  the  Deity,  which  will  be  revolutions  in  the 
same  direction  as  the  Reformation.  When  God  creates  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,  will  not  that  be  one  of  the 
most  glorious  of  revolutions?  The  Reformation  by  the 
word  alone  gives  truth,  alone  gives  unity ;  but  more  than 
that,  it  alone  bears  the  marks  of  true  legitimacy ;  for  the 
church  belongs  not  unto  men,  even  though  they  be  priests. 
God  alone  is  its  lawful  sovereign. 

And  yet  the  human  elements  which  we  have  enumerated 
were  not  wholly  foreign  to  the  work  that  was  accomplishing 
in  England.  Besides  the  word  of  God,  other  principles  were 
ia  operation,  and  although  less  radical  and  less  primitive, 
they  still  retain  the  sympathy  of  eminent  men  of  that 
nation. 

And  in  the  first  place,  the  intervention  of  the  king's  au- 
thority was  necessary  to  a  certain  point.  Since  the  supre- 
macy of  Rome  had  been  established  in  England  by  several 
usages  which  had  the  force  of  law,  the  intervention  of  the 
temporal  power  was  necessary  to  break  the  bonds  which  it 
had.  previously  sanctioned.  But  it  was  requisite  for  the 
monarchy,  while  adopting  a  negative  and  political  action, 
to  leave  the  positive,  doctrinal,  and  creative  action  to  the 
word  of  God. 

Besides  the  Reformation  in  the  name  of  the  Scriptures^ 


152  TWO  PARTIES  IN  THE  CHURCH. 

there  was  then  in  England  another  in  the  name  of  the  Icing. 
The  word  of  God  began,  the  kingly  power  followed;  and 
ever  since,  these  two  forces  have  sometimes  gone  together 
against  the  authority  of  the  Roman  pontiffs — sometimes  in 
opposition  to  each  other,  like  those  troops  which  march  side 
by  side  in  the  same  army,'  against  the  same  enemy,  and 
which  have  occasionally  been  seen,  even  on  the  field  of 
battle,  to  turn  their  swords  against  each  other. 

Finally,  the  episcopate  which  had  begun  by  opposing  the 
Reformation,  was  compelled  to  accept  it  in  despite  of  its 
convictions.  The  majority  of  the  bishops  were  opposed  to 
it;  but  the  better  portion  were  found  to  incline,  some  to  the 
side  of  outward  reform,  of  which  separation  from  the  papacy 
was  the  very  essence,  and  others  to  the  side  of  internal  re- 
form, whose  mainspring  was  union  with  Jesus  Christ. 
Lastly,  the  episcopate  took  up  its  ground  on  its  own  account, 
and  soon  two  great  parties  alone  existed  in  England :  the 
scriptural  party  and  the  clerical  party. 

These  two  parties  have  survived  even  to  our  days,  and 
their  colours  are  still  distinguishable  in  the  river  of  the 
church,  like  the  muddy  Arve  and  the  limpid  Rhone  after 
their  confluence.  The  royal  supremacy,  from  which  many 
Christians,  preferring  the  paths  of  independence,  have  with- 
drawn since  the  end  of  the  16th  century,  is  recognised  by 
both  parties  in  the  establishment,  with  some  few  exceptions. 
But  whilst  the  High  Church  is  essentially  hierarchical,  the 
Low  Church  is  essentially  biblical.  In  the  one,  the  Church 
is  above  and  the  Word  below ;  in  the  other,  the  Church  is 
below  and  the  Word  above.  These  two  principles,  evangel- 
ism and  hierarchism,  are  found  in  the  Christianity  of  the 
first  centuries,  but  with  a  signal  difference.  Hierarchism 
then  almost  entirely  effaced  evangelism ;  in  the  age  of  pro- 
testantism, on  the  contrary,  evangelism  continued  to  exist 
by  the  side  of  hierarchism,  and  it  has  remained  de  jure,  if 
not  always  de  facto,  the  only  legitimate  opinion  of  the  church. 

Thus  there  is  in  England  a  complication  of  influences  and 
contests,  which  render  the  work  more  difficult  to  describe ; 
but  it  is  on  that  very  account  more  worthy  the  attention  of 
the  philosopher  and  the  Christian. 


POLITICAL  EVENTS.  153 

* 

Great  events  had  just  occurred  in  Europe.  Francis  I.  had 
crossed  the  Alps,  gained  a  signal  victory  at  Marignano,  and 
conquered  the  north  of  Italy.  The  affrighted  Maximilian 
knew  of  none  who  could  save  him  but  Henry  VIII.  "  I  will 
adopt  you;  you  shall  be  my  successor  in  the  empire,"  he 
intimated  to  him  in  May  1516.  "  Your  army  shall  invade 
France ;  and  then  we  will  march  together  to  Rome,  where 
the  sovereign  pontiff  shall  crown  you  king  of  the  Romans." 
The  king  of  France,  anxious  to  effect  a  diversion,  had  formed 
a  league  with  Denmark  and  Scotland,  and  had  made  pre- 
parations for  invading  England  to  place  on  the  throne  the 
"  white  rose," — the  pretender  Pole,  heir  to  the  claims  of  the 
house  of  York.*  Henry  now  showed  his  prydence ;  he  de- 
clined Maximilian's  offer,  and  turned  his  whole  attention  to 
the  security  of  his  kingdom.  But  while  he  refused  to  bear 
arms  in  France  and  Italy,  a  war  of  quite  another  kind  broke 
out  in  England. 

The  great  work  of  the  16th  century  was  about  to  begin. 
A  volume  fresh  from  the  presses  of  Basle  had  just  crossed 
the  channel.  Being  transmitted  to  London,  Oxford,  and 
Cambridge,  this  book,  the  fruit  of  Erasmus's  vigils,  soon 
found  its  way  wherever  there  were  friends  of  learning.  It 
was  the  New  Testament  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  published 
for  the  first  time  in  Greek  with  a  new  Latin  translation — • 
an  event  more  important  for  the  world  than  would  have 
been  the  landing  of  the  pretender  in  England,  or  the  appear- 
ance of  the  chief  of  the  Tudors  in  Italy.  This  book,  in  which 
God  has  deposited  for  man's  salvation  the  seeds  of  life,  was 
about  to  effect  alone,  without  patrons  and  without  interpre- 
ters, the  most  Astonishing  revolution  in  Britain. 

"When  Erasmus  published  this  work,  at  the  dawn,  so  to 
Bay,  of  modern  times,  he  did  not  see  all  its  scope.  Had  he 
foreseen  it,  he  would  perhaps  have  recoiled  in  alarm.  He 
saw  indeed  that  there  was  a  great  work  to  be  done,  but  he 
believed  that  all  good  men  would  unite  to  do  it  with  common 
accord.  "  A  spiritual  temple  must  be  raised  in  desolated 
Christendom,"  said  he.  "  The  mighty  of  this  world  will 
contribute  towards  it  their  marble,  their  ivory,  and  their  gold; 

*  A  private  combination,  &c.    Strype's  Memorials,  i.  part  ii.  p.  16. 

•  2 


154  SENTIMENTS  OF  ERASMUS. 

e 

I  who  am  poor  and  humble  offer  the  foundation  stone,"  and 
he  laid  down  before  the  world  his  edition  of  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment. Then  glancing  disdainfully  at  the  traditions  of  men, 
he  said :  "  It  is  not  from  human  reservoirs,  fetid  with  stag- 
nant waters,  that  we  should  draw  the  doctrine  of  salvation; 
but  from  the  pure  and  abundant  streams  that  flow  from  the 
heart  of  God."  And  when  some  of  his  suspicious  friends 
spoke  to  hjm  of  the  difficulties  of  the  times,  he  replied :  "  If 
the  ship  of  the  church  is  to  be  saved  from  being  swallowed 
up  by  the  tempest,  there  is  only  one  anchor  that  can  save  it : 
it  is  the  heavenly  word,  which,  issuing  from  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,  lives,  speaks,  and  works  still  in  the  gospel."  *  These 
noble  sentiments  served  as  an  introduction  to  those  blessed 
pages  which  were  to  reform  England.  Erasmus  like  Caia- 
phas,  prophesied  without  being  aware  of  it. 

The  New  Testament  in  Greek  and  Latin  had  hardly  ap- 
peared when  it  was  received  by  all  men  of  upright  mind 
with  unprecedented  enthusiasm.  Never  had  any  book  pro- 
duced such  a  sensation.  It  was  in  every  hand  :  men  strug- 
gled to  procure  it,  read  it  eagerly,  and  would  even  kiss  it-J- 
ibe words  it  contained  enlightened  every  heart.  But  a  re- 
action soon  took  place.  Traditional  Catholicism  uttered  a 
cry  from  the  depths  of  its  noisome  pools  (to  use  Erasmus's 
figure).  Franciscans  and  Dominicans,  priests  and  bishops, 
not  daring  to  attack  the  educated  and  well-born,  went  among 
the  ignorant  populace,  and  endeavoured  by  their  tales  and 
clamours  to  stir  up  susceptible  women  and  credulous  men. 
"  Here  are  horrible  heresies,"  they  exclaimed,  "  here  are 
frightful  antichrists !  If  this  book  be  tolerated  it  will  be  the 
death  of  the  papacy  I" — "  We  must  drive  this  man  from  the 
university,"  said  one.  "  We  must  turn  him  out  of  the 
church,"  added  another.  "  The  public  places  re-echoed  with 
their  bowlings,"  said  Erasmus.^  The  firebrands  tossed  by 
their  furious  hands  were  raising  fires  in  every  quarter;  ani 

*  In  evangelicis  litteris,  sermo  ille  ccelestis,  quondam  e  corde  Patris 
ad  nos  profectus.  Erasm.  Leoni,  Ep.  p.  1843.  j 

t  Opus  avidissime  rapitur amatur,  manibus  teritur.  Erasm.  E|> 

p.  557. 

J  Oblatrabant  sycophants.    Ibii.  p.  329 . 


ATTACK  OP  THE  PRIESTS.  155 

the  flames  kindled  in  a  few  obscure  convents  threatened  to 
spread  over  the  whole  country. 

This  irritation  was  not  without  a  cause.  The  book,  in- 
deed, contained  nothing  but  Latin  and  Greek ;  but  this  first 
step  seemed  to  augur  another — the  translation  of  the  Bible 
into  the  vulgar  tongue.  Erasmus  loudly  called  for  it.* 
"  Perhaps  it  may  be  necessary  to  conceal  the  secrets  of  kings," 
he  remarked,  "  but  we  must  publish  the  mysteries  of  Christ. 
The  Holy  Scriptures,  translated  into  all  languages,  should 
be  read  not  only  by  the  Scotch  and  Irish,  but  even  by  Turks 
and  Saracens.  The  husbandman  should  sing  them  as  he 
holds  the  handle  of  his  plough,  the  weaver  repeat  them  as 
he  plies  his  shuttle,  and  the  wearied  traveller,  halting  on  his 
journey,  refresh  him  under  some  shady  tree  by  these  godly 
narratives."  These  words  prefigured  a  golden  age  after  the 
iron  age  of  popery.  A  number  of  Christian  families  in  Bri- 
tain and  on  the  continent  were  soon  to  realize  these  evan- 
gelical forebodings,  and  England  after  three  centuries'was  to 
endeavour  to  carry  them  out  for  the  benefit  of  all  the  nations 
on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  priests  saw  the  danger,  and  by  a  skilful  manoeuvre, 
instead  of  finding  fault  with  the  Greek  Testament,  attacked 
the  translation  and  the  translator.  "  He  has  corrected  the 
Vulgate,"  they  said,  "  and  puts  himself  in  the  place  of  Saint 
Jerome.  He  sets  aside  a  work  authorized  by  the  consent  ot 
ages  and  inspired  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  What  audacity!" 
and  then,  turning  over  the  pages,  they  pointed  out  the  most 
odious  passages :  "  Look  here !  this  book  calls  upon  men  to 
repent,  instead  of  requiring  them,  as  the  Vulgate  does,  to  do 
penance!"  (Matt.  iv.  17.)  The  priests  thundered  against 
him  from  their  pulpits :f  "This  man  has  committed  the 
unpardonable  sin,"  they  asserted  •,  "  for  he  maintains  that 
there  is  nothing  in  common  between  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
the  monks — that  they  are  logs  rather  than  men ! "  These 
simple  remarks  were  received  with  a  general  laugh,  but  the 
priests,  in  no  wise  disconcerted,  cried  out  all  the  louder : 

*  Paraclesis  ad  lectorem  pium. 

t  Quam  stolide  debacchati  sunt  quidan  e  suggestis  ad  populous. 
Erasui.  Ep.  p.  1193. 


156         ATTACK  OP  THE  PRIESTS  AT  COURT. 

"  He 's  a  heretic,  an  heresiarch,  a  forger!  he 's  a  goose* 

what  do  I  say?  he's  a  very  antichrist!" 

It  was  not  sufficient  for  the  papal  janissaries  to  make  war 
in  the  plain,  they  must  carry  it  to  the  higher  ground.  Was 
not  the  king  a  friend  of  Erasmus?  If  he  should  declare 
himself  a  patron  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Testament,  what 

an  awful  calamity! After  having  agitated  the  cloisters, 

towns,  and  universities,  they  resolved  to  protest  against  it 
boldly,  even  in  Henry's  presence.  They  thought :  "  If  he  is 
won,  all  is  won."  It  happened  one  day  that  a  certain  theo- 
logian (whose  name  is  not  given)  having  to  preach  in  his 
turn  before  the  king,  he  declaimed  violently  against  the 
Greek  language  and  its  new  interpreters.  Pace,  the  king's 
secretary,  was  present,  and  turning  his  eyes  on  Henry,  ob- 
served him  smiling  good  humouredly.  -|-  On  leaving  the 
church,  every  one  began  to  exclaim  against  the  preacher. 
"  Bring  the  priest  to  me,"  said  the  king ;  and  then  turning 
to  More,  he  added :  "  You  shall  defend  the  Greek  cause 
against  him,  and  I  will  listen  to  the  disputation."  The  lite- 
rary tribunal  was  soon  formed,  but  the  sovereign's  order  had 
taken  away  all  the  priest's  courage.  He  Ccime  forward  trem- 
bling, fell  on  his  knees,  and  with  clasped  hands  exclaimed: 
"  I  know  not  what  spirit  impelled  me." — "  A  spirit  of  mad-" 
ness,"  said  the  king,  "  and  not  the  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ."  J 
He  then  added  :  "  Have  you  ever  read  Erasmus  ?  " — "  No, 
Sire." — "  Away  with  you  then,  you  are  a  blockhead." — "  And 
yet,"  said  the  preacher  in  confusion,  "  I  remember  to  have 
read  something  about  Moria"  (Erasmus's  treatise  on  Folly.} 
— "  A  subject,  your  majesty,  that  ought  to  be  very  familiar 
to  him,"  wickedly  interrupted  Pace.  The  obscurant  could 
say  nothing  in  his  justification.  "  I  am  not  altogether  op- 
posed to  the  Greek,"  he  added  at  last,  "  seeing  that  it  is  de- 
rived from  the  Hebrew."  §  This  was  greeted  with  a  general 

*  Nos  clamitans  esse  grues  (cranes)  et  bestias.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  914. 

•}•  Pacseus  in  regem  conjecit  oculos Is  mox  Pacseo  suaviter  arrisit. 

Ibid. 

J  Turn  rex  :  ut  qui  inquit,  spiritus  iste  non  erat  Christi  sed  stultitise 
Ibid. 

§  Grsecis,  inquit,  literis  non  perinde  sum  infensus,  quod  originem  ha- 
leant  ex  lingua  hebraica.  Ibid.  p.  347. 


LABOURS  OP  ERASMUS.  157 

laugh,  and  the  king  impatiently  ordered  the  monk  to  leave 
the  room,  and  never  appear  before  him  again. 

Erasmus  was  astonished  at  these  discussions.  He  had 
imagined  the  season  to  be  most  favourable.  u  Everything 
looks  peaceful,"  he  had  said  to  himself;  "now  is  the  time 
to  launch  my  Greek  Testament  into  the  learned  world."* 
As  well  might  the  sun  rise  upon  the  earth,  and  no  one  see 
it !  At  that  very  hour  God  was  raising  up  a  monk  at  Wit- 
tcmberg  who  would  lift  the  trumpet  to  his  lips,  and  proclaim 
the  new  day.  "  Wretch  that  I  am  ! "  exclaimed  the  timid 
scholar,  beating  his  breast,  "  who  could  have  foreseen  this 
horrible  tempest ! "  -{- 

Nothing  was  more  important  at  the  dawn  of  the  Reforma- 
tion than  the  publication  of  the  Testament  of  Jesus  Christ 
in  the  original  language.  Never  had  Erasmus  worked  so 
carefully.  "  If  I  told  what  sweat  it  cost  me,  no  one  would 
believe  me."  J  He  had  collated  many  Greek  MSS.  of  the 
New  Testament,  §  and  was  surrounded  by  all  the  commen- 
taries and  translations,  by  the  writings  of  Origen,  Cyprian, 
Ambrose,  Basil,  Chrysostom,  Cyril,  Jerome,  and  Augustine. 
Hie  sum  incampo  meo  !  he  exclaimed  as  he  sat'in  the  midst 
of  his  books.  He  had  investigated  the  texts  according  to 
the  principles  of  sacred  criticism.  When  a  knowledge  of 
Hebrew  was  «ecessary,  he  had  consulted  Capito,  and  more 
particularly  (Ecolampadius.  Nothing  icithout  Theseus,  said 
he  of  the  latter,  making  use  of  a  Greek  proverb.  He  had 
corrected  the  amphibologies,  obscurities,  hebraisms,  and  bar- 
barisms of  the  Vulgate;  and  had  caused  a  list  to  be  printed 
of  the  errors  in  that  version. 

"  We  must  restore  the  pure  text  of  the  word  of  God,"  he 
had  said ;  and  when  he  heard  the  maledictions  of  the  priests, 
he  had  exclaimed  :  "  I  call  God  to  witness  I  thought  I  was 
doing  a  work  acceptable  to  the  Lord  and  necessary  to  the 
cause  of  Christ."  ||  Nor  in  this  was  he  deceived. 

.*  Erant  tempera  tranquilla.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  911. 

+  Quis  enim  suspicaturus  erat  hanc  fatalem  tempestatem  exoriturara 
in  orbe  !  Ibid. 

$  Quantis  mihi  constiterit  sndoribus.    Ibid.  p.  329. 

§  Collatis  multis  Graecorum  ezemplaribus.     Ibid. 

||  Deum  tester  simpliciter  ex.stimabam  mo  rcm  facere  Deo  gratam  ao 
rei  cbristians  necessarian.  Ibid.  p.  Ml. 


158  EDWARD  LEE. 

At  the  head  of  his  adversaries  was  Edward  Lee,  succes- 
sively king's  almoner,  archdeacon  of  Colchester,  and  arch- 
bishop of  York.  Lee,  at  that  time  but  little  known,  was  a 
man  of  talent  and  activity,  but  also  vain  and  loquacious, 
and  determined  to  make  his  way  at  any  cost.  Even  when  a 
schoolboy,  he  looked  down  on  all  his  companions.*  As 
child,  youth,  man,  and  in  mature  years,  he  was  always  the 
same,  Erasmus  tells  us  ;  -J-  that  is  to  say,  vain,  envious,  jeal- 
ous, boasting,  passionate,  and  revengeful.  We  must  bear  in 
mind,  however,  that  when  Erasmus  describes  the  character 
of  his  opponents,  he  is  far  from  being  an  impartial  judge. 
In  the  bosom  of  Roman-catholicism,  there  have  always  ex- 
isted well-meaning,  though  ill-informed  men,  who,  not  know- 
ing the  interior  power  of  the  word  of  God,  have  thought  that 
if  its  authority  were  substituted  for'  that  of  the  Romish 
church,  the  only  foundation  of  truth  and  of  Christian  society 
would  be  shaken.  Yet  while  we  judge  Lee  less  severely 
than  Erasmus  does,  we  cannot  close  our  eyes  to  his  faults. 
His  memory  was  richly  furnished,  but  his  heart  was  a 
stranger  to  divine  truth :  he  was  a  schoolman  and  not  a 
believer.  He  wanted  the  people  to  obey  the  church  and  not 
trouble  themselves  about  the  Scriptures.  He  was  the  Doctor 
Eck  of  England,  but  with  more  of  outward  appearance  and 
morality  than  Luther's  adversary.  Yet  he  was  by  no  means 
a  rigid  moralist.  On  one  occasion,  when  preaching  at  the 
palace,  he  introduced  ballads  into  his  sermon,  one  of  which 
began  thus  : — 

"  Pass  time  with  good  company." 
And  the  other : — 

"  I  love  unloved." 

We  are  indebted  to  Secretary  Pace  for  this  characteristic 
trait.f 

During  the  sojourn  of  Erasmus  in  England,  Lee,  observ- 
ing his  influence,  had  sought  his  friendship,  and  Erasmus, 

*  Solus  haberi  in  pretio  volebat.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  593. 
•f  Talis  erat  puer,  talis  adolescens,  tails  juvenis,  talis  nunc  ctiam  vir  est. 
Ibid.  594. 
J  State  Papers,  Henry  VIII.  etc.  i.  p  10,  pub.  1830. 


LEAGUE  AGAINST  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT.  159 

with  his  usual  courtesy,  had  solicited  his  advice  upon  his 
work.  But  Lee,  jealous  of  his  great  reputation,  only  waited 
for  an  opportunity  to  injure  it,  which  he  seized  upon  as  soon 
as  it  occurred.  The  New  Testament  had  not  been  long  pub- 
lished, when  Lee  turned  round  abruptly,  and  from  being 
Erasmus's  friend  became  his  implacable  adversary.  *  "  If 
we  do  not  stop  this  leak,"  said  he  when  he  heard  of  the  New 
Testament,  "  it  will  sink  the  ship."  Nothing  terrifies  the 
defenders  of  human  traditions  so  much  as  the  word  of  God. 

Lee  immediately  leagued  himself  with  all  those  in  Eng- 
land who  abhorred  the  study  of  Scripture,  says  Erasmus. 
Although  exceedingly  conceited,  he  showed  himself  the  most 
amiable  of  men,  in  order  to  accomplish  his  designs.  He  in- 
vited Englishmen  to  his  house,  welcomed  strangers,  and 
gained  many  recruits  by  the  excellence  of  his  dinners.-j- 
While  seated  at  table  among  his  guests,  he  hinted  perfidious 
charges  against  Erasmus,  and  his  company  left  him  "  loaded 
with  lies."  J — "  In  this  New  Testament,"  said  he,  "  there 

are  three  hundred  dangerous,  frightful  passages three 

hundred  did  I  say? there  are  more  than  a  thousand!" 

Not  satisfied  with  using  his  tongue,  Lee  wrote  scores  of  let- 
ters, and  employed  several  secretaries.  Was  there  any  con- 
vent in  the  odour  of  sanctity,  he  "  forwarded  to  it  instantly 
wine,  choice  viands,  and  other  presents."  To  each  one  he 
assigned  his  part,  and  over  all  England  they  were  rehearsing 
what  Erasmus  calls  Lee's  tragedy.  §  In  this  manner  they 
were  preparing  the  catastrophe ;  a  prison  for  Erasmus,  the 
fire  for  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

When  all  was  arranged,  Lee  issued  his  manifesto.  Al- 
though a  poor  Greek  scholar,])  he  drew  up  some  Annotations 
on  Erasmus's  book,  which  the  latter  called  "  mere  abuse  and 
blasphemy  ;"  but  which  the  members  of  the  league  regarded 
as  oracles.  They  passed  them  secretly  from  hand  to  hand, 
and  these  obscure  sheets,  by  many  indirect  channels,  found 

•  Subito  factus  est  inimicus.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  746. 
+  Excipicbat  advenas,  praesertim  Anglos,  eos  coimviis  faciebat  suoa. 
Ibic  p  593. 

.  Abeuntes  omni  raendaciorum  genere  dimittebat  onustos.    Ibid. 
§'  Douce  Lcus  ordiretur  suam  tragaediam.    Ibid.  p.  913. 
",  Simon,  Hist.  crit.  du  N.  Test.  p.  246. 


160  LEE'S  MANIFESTO — GENERAL  OPPOSITION. 

their  way  into  every  part  of  England,  and  met  with  numer- 
ous readers.*  There  was  to  be  no  publication — such  was 
the  watchword ;  Lee  was  too  much  afraid.  "  Why  did  you 
not  publish  your  work  ?"  asked  Erasmus,  with  cutting  irony. 
"  Who  knows  whether  the  holy  father,  appointing  you  the 
Aristarchus  of  letters,  might  not  have  sent  you  a  birch  to 
keep  the  whole  world  in  order  !"-j- 

The  Annotations  having  triumphed  in  the  convents,  the 
conspiracy  took  a  new  flight.  In  every  place  of  public  resort, 
at  fairs  and  markets,  at  the  dinner-table  and  in  the  council- 
chamber,  in  shops,  and  taverns,  and  houses  of  ill-fame,  in 
churches  and  in  the  universities,  in  cottages  and  in  palaces, 
the  league  blattered  against  Erasmus  and  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment.:}: Carmelites,  Dominicans,  and  Sophists,  invoked 
heaven  and  conjured  hell.  What  need  was  there  of  Scrip- 
ture ?  Had  they  not  the  apostolical  succession  of  the  clergy  ? 
No  hostile  landing  in  England  could,  in  their  eyes,  be  more 
fatal  than  that  of  the  New  Testament.  The  whole  nation  must 
rise  to  repel  this  impudent  invasion.  There  is,  perhaps,  no 
country  in  Europe,  where  the  Reformation  was  received  by 
so  unexpected  a  storm. 


CHAPTER  11. 

Effects  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  Universities — Conversations— A 
Cambridge  Fellow — Bilney  buys  the  New  Testament — The  First  Pas- 
sage—His Conversion — Protestantism,  the  Fruit  of  the  Gospel — The 
Vale  of  the  Severn — William  Tyndale — Evangelization  at  Oxford — 
Biluey  teaches  at  Cambridge— Fry  th — Is  Conversion  possible  ? — True 
Consecration — The  Reformation  has  begun. 

WHILE  this  rude  blast  was  rushing  over  England,  and  roar- 
ing in  the  long  galleries  of  its  convents,  the  still  small  voice 

*  Liber  volitat  inter  manus  conjuratorum.    Erasm.  En.  p.  746. 
•f-  Tibi  tradita  virgula  totius  orbis  censuram  fuerit  maudaturus.    Ibid. 
p.  742. 
J  Utnusquam  non  blat  event  in  Erasmum,  in  compotationibus,  in  foris, 


THE  NEW  TESTAMENT  IN  THE  UNIVERSITIES.  161 

of  the  Word  was  making  its  way  into  the  peaceful  homes  of 
praying  men  and  the  ancient  halls  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge. 
In  private  chambers,  in  the  lecture-rooms  and  refectories, 
students,  and  even  masters  of  arts,  were  to  be  seen  reading 
the  Greek  and  Latin  Testament.  Animated  groups  were 
discussing  the  principles  of  the  Reformation.  When  Christ 
came  on  earth  (said  some)  He  gave  the  Word,  and  when  He 
ascended  up  into  heaven  He  gave  the  Holy  Spirit.  These 
are  the  two  forces  which  created  the  church — and  these  are 
the  forces  that  must  regenerate  it. — No  (replied  the  partisans 
of  Rome),  it  was  the  teaching  of  the  apostles  at  first,  and  it 
is  the  teaching  of  the  priests  now. — The  apostles  (rejoined 
the  friends  of  the  Testament  of  Erasmus) — yes,  it  is  true — 
the  apostles  were  during  their  ministry  a  living  scripture ; 
but  their  oral  teaching  would  infallibly  have  been  altered  by 
passing  from  mouth  to  mouth.  God  willed,  therefore,  that 
these  precious  lessons  should  be  preserved  to  us  in  their 
writings,  and  thus  become  the  ever  undefined  source  of  truth 
and  salvation.  To  set  the  Scriptures  in  the  foremost  place, 
as  your  pretended  reformers  are  doing,  replied  the  schoolmen 
of  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  is  to  propagate  heresy !  And 
what  are  the  reformers  doing  (asked  their  apologists)  except 
what  Christ  did  before  them  ?  The  sayings  of  the  prophets 
existed  in  the  time  of  Jesus  only  as  Scripture,  and  it  was 
to  this  written  Word  that  our  Lord  appealed  when  he  founded 
his  kingdom.*  And  now  in  like  manner  the  teaching  of  the 
apostles  exists  only  as  Scripture,  and  it  is  to  this  written 
word  that  we  appeal  in  order  to  re-establish  the  kingdom  of 
our  Lord  in  its  primitive  condition.  The  night  is  far  spent, 
the  day  is  at  hand ;  all  is  in  motion— in  the  lofty  halls  of  our 
colleges,  in  the  mansions  of  the  rich  and  noble,  and  in  the 
lowly  dwellings  of  the  poor.  If  we  want  to  scatter  the  dark- 
ness, must  we  light  the  shrivelled  wick  of  some  old  lamp  ? 
Ought  we  not  rather  to  open  the  doors  and  shutters,  and 

in  conciliabulis,  in  pharmacopoliis,  in  curribus,in  tonstrinls,  in  fornicibui. 

Erasm.  Ep.  p.  746. 

»  Matth.  xxii.  29  ;  xxvi.  24,  54  ;  Mark,  xiv.  49  ;  Luke,  xviii.  31  ; 
27, U,  45  ;  John  v.  39,  4G  ;  x.  35  ;  xvii.  12.  &c 
VOL.  V.  8 


162  THOMAS  BILNEY HIS  ANGUISH. 

admit  freely  into  the  house  the  great  light  which  God  has 
placed  in  the  heavens  ? 

There  was  in  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge,  a  young  doctor, 
much  given  to  the  study  of  the  canon  law,  of  serious  turn  of 
mind  and  bashful  disposition,  and  whose  tender  conscience 
strove,  although  ineffectually,  to  fulfil  the  commandments  of 
God.  Anxious  about  his  salvation,  Thomas  Bilney  applied 
to  the  priests,  whom  he  looked  upon  as  physicians  of  the 
soul.  Kneeling  before  his  confessor,  with  humble  look  and 
pale  face,  he  told  him  all  his  sins,  and  even  those  of  which 
he  doubted.*  The  priest  prescribed  at  one  time  fasting,  at 
another  prolonged  vigils,  and  then  masses  and  indulgences 
which  cost  him  dearly.-}-  The  poor  doctor  went  through  all 
these  practices  with  great  devotion,  but  found  no  consolation 
in  them.  Being  weak  and  slender,  his  body  wasted  away 
by  degrees,:}:  his  understanding  grew  weaker,  his  imagina- 
tion faded,  and  his  purse  became  empty.  "  Alas  !"  said  he 
with  anguish,  "  my  last  state  is  worse  than  the  first."  From 
time  to  time  an  idea  crossed  his  mind  :  "  May  not  the  priests 
be  seeking  their  own  interest,  and  not  the  salvation  of  my 
soul?"§  But  immediately  rejecting  the  rash. doubt,  he  fell 
back  under  the  iron  hand  of  the  clergy. 

One  day  Bilney  heard  his  friends  talking  about  a  new 
book  :  it  was  the  Greek  Testament  printed  with  a  translation 
which  was  highly  praised  for  its  elegant  latinity.||  Attracted 
by  the  beauty  of  the  style  rather  than  by  the  divinity  of  the 
subject,^"  he  stretched  out  his  hand;  but  just  as  he  was 
going  to  take  the  volume,  fear  came  upon  him  and  he  with- 
drew it  hastily.  In  fact  the  confessors  strictly  prohibited 
Greek  and  Hebrew  books,  "  the  sources  of  all  heresies ;"  and 
Erasmus's  Testament  was  particularly  forbidden.  Yet  Bil- 

*  In  ignaros  medicos,  indoctos  confessionum  auditores.  Th.  Bilnaeus 
Tonstallo  Episcopo  ;  Foxe,  iv.  p.  633. 

f  Indicebant  enim  mihi  jejunia,  vigilias,  indulgentiarum  et  missarum 
emptiones.  Ibid. 

J  TJt  parum  mihi  virium  (alioqui  natura  imbecilli)  reliquum  fuerit.  Ibid. 

§  Sua  potius  quaorebant  quam  salutem  animaj  mere  languentis.    Ibid. 

[[  Cum  ab  eo  latinius  redditum  accepi.    Ibid. 

TI  Latinitate  potius  quam  verbo  Dei,  allectus.    Ibid. 


HE  OPENS  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT.  163 

ney  regretted  so  great  a  sacrifice ;  was  it  not  the  Testament 
of  Jesus  Christ  ?  Might  not  God  have  placed  therein  some 
word  which  perhaps  might  heal  his  soul  ?  He  stepped  for- 
ward, and  then  again  shrank  back At  last  he  took  cour- 
age. Urged,  said  he,  by  the  hand  of  God,  he  walked  out  of 
the  college,  slipped  into  the  house  where  the  volume  was 
sold  in  secret,  bought  it  with  fear  and  trembling,  and  then 
hastened  back  and  shut  himself  up  in  his  room.  * 

He  opened  it — his  eyes  caught  these  words :  This  is  a 
faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  tJiat  Christ 
Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners ;  of  whom  I  am 
chicf.j  He  laid  down  the  book,  and  meditated  on  the  as- 
tonishing declaration.  "  What !  St  Paul  the  chief  of  sinners, 
and  yet  St  Paul  is  sure  of  being  saved  1"  He  read  the  verse 
again  and  again.  "  0  assertion  of  St  Paul,  how  sweet  art 
thou  to  my  soul!"  he  exclaimed.^  This  declaration  con- 
tinually haunted  him,  and  in  this  manner  God  instructed 
him  in  the  secret  of  his  heart.§  He  could  not  tell  what  had 
happened  to  him ;  ||  it  seemed  as  if  a  refreshing  wind  were 
blowing  over  his  soul,  or  as  if  a  rich  treasure  had  been  placed 
in  his  hands.  The  Holy  Spirit  took  what  was  Christ's,  and 
anrfbunced  it  to  him.  "  I  also  am  like  Paul,"  exclaimed  he  with 

emotion,  "  and  more  than  Paul,  the  greatest  of  sinners ! 

But  Christ  saves  sinners.  At  last  I  have  heard  of  Jesus."  ^j 

His  doubts  were  ended — he  was  saved.  Then  took  place 
in  him  a  wonderful  transformation.  An  unknown  joy  per- 
vaded him  ;**  his  conscience,  until  then  sore  with  the  wounds 
of  sin,  was  healed ;  -J-J-  instead  of  despair  he  felt  an  inward 
peace  passing  all  understanding.^  "Jesus  Christ,"  exclaimed 

he  :  "yes,  Jesus  Christ  saves  !" Such  is  the  character  of 

the  Reformation  :  it  is  Jesus  Christ  who  saves,  and  not  the 

*  Emebam  providentia  (sine  dubio)  diviua.    Foxe,  iv.  p.  633. 

t  1  Tim.  i.  15. 

J  O  mihi  suavissimam  Pauli  sententiam  !    Foxe,  ir.  p.  633. 

§  Hac  una  sententia,  Deo  intus  in  corde  mco  docente.    Ibid. 

||  Quod  tune  fieri  ignorabam.    Ibid. 

^J  Tandem  de  Jesu  audiebam.    Ibid. 
**  Sic  exhilaravit  pectns  meum.    Ibid. 

T*  Peccatorum  conscientia  saucium  ac  pene  desperabundum     HiM. 
££  Nesoio  quantum  intus  tranqoiUttatem  sentire.     Ibid. 


164  BEGINNING  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 

church.  "  I  see  it  all,"  said  Bilney ;  "  my  vigils,  my  fasts, 
my  pilgrimages,  my  purchase  of  masses  and  indulgences 
were  destroying  instead  of  saving  me.*  All  these  efforts 
were,  as  St  Augustine  says,  a  hasty  running  out  of  the  right 
way."  f 

Bilney  never  grew  tired  of  reading  his  New  Testament, 
He  no  longer  lent  an  attentive  ear  to  the  teaching  of  the 
schoolmen :  he  heard  Jesus  at  Capernaum,  Peter  in  the 
temple,  Paul  on  Mars'  hill,  and  felt  within  himself  that 
Christ  possesses  the  words  of  eternal  life.  A  witness  to 
Jesus  Christ  had  just  been  born  by  the  same  power  which 
had  transformed  Paul,  Apollos,  and  Timothy.  The  Reforma- 
tion of  England  was  beginning.  Bilney  was  united  to  the 
Son  of  God,  not  by  a  remote  succession,  but  by  an  immediate 
generation.  Leaving  to  the  disciples  of  the  pope  the  en- 
tangled chain  of  their  imaginary  succession,  whose  links  it 
is  impossible  to  disengage,  he  attached  himself  closely  to 
Christ.  The  word  of  the  first  century  gave  birth  to  the  six- 
teenth. Protestantism  does  not  descend  from  the  gospel  in 
the  fiftieth  generation  like  the  Romish  church  of  the  Council 
of  Trent,  or  in  the  sixtieth  like  some  modern  doctors  :  it  is 
the  direct  legitimate  son — the  son  of  the  master.  • 

God's  action  was  not  limited  to  one  spot.  The  first  rays 
of  the  sun  from  on  high  gilded  with  their  fires  at  once  the 
gothic  colleges  of  Oxford  and  the  antique  schools  of  Cam- 
bridge. 

Along  the  banks  of  the  Severn  extends  a  picturesque 
country,  bounded  by  the  forest  of  Dean,  and  sprinkled  with 
villages,  steeples,  and  ancient  castles.  In  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury it  was  particularly  admired  by  priests  and  friars,  and  a 
familiar  oath  among -them  was:  "  As  sure  as  God's  in 
Glo'ster!"  The  papal  birds  of  prey  had  swooped  upon  it. 
For  fifty  years,  from  1484  to  1534,  four  Italian  bishops, 
placed  in  succession  over  the  diocese,  had  surrendered  it  to 
the  pope,  to  the  monks,  and  to  immorality.  Thieves  in  par- 
ticular were  the  objects  of  the  tenderest  favours  of  the  hier- 
archy. John  de  Giglis,  collector  of  the  apostolical  chamber. 

Didici  omnes  meos  conatus,  etc.    Foxc,  iv.  p.  633. 
f  Quod  ait  Augustinus,  oelerem  oursum  extra  viam.    Ibid. 


WILLIAM  TYNDALE.  165 

had  received  from  the  sovereign  pontiff  authority  to  pardon 
murder  and  theft,  on  condition  that  the  criminal  shared  his 
profits  with  the  pontifical  commissioners.* 

In  this  valley,  at  the  foot  of  Stinchcomb  hill,  to  the  south- 
west of  Gloucester,*there  dwelt,  during  the  latter  half  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  a  family  which  had  taken  refuge  there 
during  the  wars  of  the  Roses,  and  assumed  the  name  of 
Hutching.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  the  Lancasterian 
party  having  the  upper  hand,  they  resumed  their  name  of 
Tyndale,  which  had  been  borne  of  yore  by  many  noble 
barons.f  In  1484,  about  a  year  after  the  birth  of  Luther, 
and  about  the  time  that  Zwingle  first  saw  light  in  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Tockenburg,  these  partisans  -of  the  red  rose  were 
blessed  with  a  son,  whom  they  called  William.  His  youth 
was  passed  in  the  fields  surrounding  his  native  village  of 
North  Nibley,  beneath  the  shadows  of  Berkeley  Castle,  or 
beside  the  rapid  waters  of  the  Severn,  and  in  the  midst  of 
friars  and  pontifical  collectors.  He  was  sent  very  early  to 
Oxford,|  where  he  learnt  grammar  and  philosophy  in  the 
school  of  St  Mary  Magdalene,  adjoining  the  college  of  that 
name.  He  made  rapid  progress,  particularly  in  languages, 
under  the  first  classical  scholars  in  England — Grocyn,  W. 
Latimer,  and  Linacre,  and  took  his  degrees.§  A  more  ex- 
cellent master  than  these  doctors — the  Holy  Spirit  speaking 
in  Scripture — was  soon  to  teach  him  a  science  which  it  is 
not  in  the  power  of  man  to  impart. 

Oxford,  where  Erasmus  had  so  many  friends,  was  the  city 
in  which  his  New  Testament  met  with  the  warmest  welcome. 
The  young  Gloucestershire  student,  inwardly  impelled  to- 
wards the  study  of  sacred  literature,  read  the  celebrated  book 
which  was  then  attracting  the  attention  of  Christendom. 
At  first  he  regarded  it  only  as  a  work  of  learning,  or  at  most 
as  a  manual  of  piety,  whose  beauties  were  calculated  to  ex- 
cite religious  feelings ;  but  erelong  he  found  it  to  be  some- 
thing more.  The  more  he  read  it,  the  more  was  he  struck 

•  Annals  of  the  English  Bible,  i.  p.  12. 

t  Bigland's  Glo'ster,  p.  293.    Annals  of  the  English  Bible,  i.  p.  1£- 

J  From  a  child.    Foxe,  Acts  and  Mon.  T.  p.  115. 

§  Proceeding  in  degrees  of  the  schools.    Ibid. 


166  EVANGELIZATION  AT  OXFORD. 

by  the  truth  and  energy  of  the  word.  This  strange  book 
spoke  to  him  of  God,  of  Christ,  and  of  regeneration,  with  a 
simplicity  and  authority  which  completely  subdued  him. 
William  had  found  a  master  whom  he  had  not  sought  at 
Oxford — this  was  God  himself.  The  pages  he  held  in  his 
hand  were  the  divine  revelation  so  long  mislaid.  Possessing 
a  noble  soul,  a  bold  spirit,  and  indefatigable  activity,  he  did 
not  keep  this  treasure  to  himself.  He  uttered  that  cry,  more 
suited  to  a  Christian  than  to  Archimedes :  gygjjxa,  /  have 
found  it.  It  was  not  long  before  several  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  university,  attracted  by  the  purity  of  his  life 
and  the  charms  of  his  conversation,*  gathered  round  him, 
and  read  with  him  the  Greek  and  Latin  gospels  of  Erasmus.-j- 
"  A  certain  well-informed  young  man,"  wrote  Erasmus  in  a 
letter  wherein  he  speaks  of  the  publication  of  his  New  Tes- 
tament, "  began  to  lecture  with  success  on  Greek  literature 
at  Oxford."|  He  was  probably  speaking  of  Tyndale. 

The  monks  took  the  alarm.  "  A  barbarian"  continues 
Erasmus,  "  entered  the  pulpit  and  violently  abused  the  Greek 
language." — "  These  folk,"  said  Tyndale,  "  wished  to  ex- 
tinguish the  light  which  exposed  their  trickery,  and  they 
have  been  laying  their  plans  these  dozen  years."  §  This 
observation  was  made  in  1531,  and  refers  therefore  to  the 
proceedings  of  1517.  Germany  and  England  were  beginning 
the  struggle  at  nearly  the  same  time,  and  Oxford  perhaps 
before  Wittemberg.  Tyndale,  bearing  in  mind  the  injunc- 
tion :  "  When  they  persecute  you  in  one  city,  flee  ye  into 
another,"  left  Oxford  and  proceeded  to  Cambridge.  It  must 
needs  be  that  souls  whom  God  has  brought  to  his  knowledge 
should  meet  and  enlighten  one  another :  live  coals,  when 
separated,  go  out;  when  gathered  together,  they  brighten 
up,  so  as  even  to  purify  silver  and  gold.  The  Romish  hier- 

*  His  manners  and  conversation  being  correspondent  to  the  Scriptures, 
t'oxe,  Acts  and  Mon.  v.  p.  115. 

f  Read  privily  to  certain  students  and  fellows,  instructing  them  in  tho 
knowledge  and  truth  of  tho  Scriptures.  Ibid. 

£  Oxoniae  cum  juvenis  quidam  non  vulgariter  doctus.  Erasm.  Ep.  p. 
346. 

§  Which  they  have  been  in  brewing  as  I  hear  this  dozen  yoars.  Tyn- 
dalo's  Kxpositions  (Park  Soc.),  P-  225. 


BII-NEY  TEACHES  AT  CAMBRIDGE.  167 

archy,  not  knowing  what  they  did,  were  collecting  the  scat- 
tered brands  of  the  Reformation. 

Bilney  was  not  inactive  at  Cambridge.  Not  long  had  the 
"  sublime  lesson  of  Jesus  Christ"  filled  him  with  joy,  before 
he  fell  on  his  knees  and  exclaimed :  "  0  Thou  who  art  the 
truth,  give  me  strength  that  I  may  teach  it :  and  convert 
the  ungodly  by  means  of  one  who  has  been  ungodly  himself."* 
After  this  prayer  his  eyes  gleamed  with  new  fire ;  he  had 
assembled  his  friends,  and  opening  Erasmus's  Testament, 
had  placed  his  finger  on  the  words  that  had  reached  his  soul, 
and  these  words  had  touched  many.  The  arrival  of  Tyndale 
gave  him  fresh  courage,  and  the  light  burnt  brighter  in 
Cambridge. 

John  Fryth,  a  young  man  of  eighteen,  the  son  of  an  inn- 
keeper of  Sevenoaks  in  Kent,  was  distinguished  among  the 
students  of  King's  College  by  the  promptitude  of  his  under- 
standing and  the  integrity  of  his  life.  He  was  as  deeply 
read  in  the  mathematics  as  Tyndale  in  the  classics  and  Bilney 
in  canon  law.  Although  of  an  exact  turn  of  mind,  yet  his 
soul  was  elevated,  and  he  recognised  in  Holy  Scripture  a 
learning  of  a  new  kind.  "  These  things  are  not  demonstrated 
like  a  proposition  of  Euclid,"  he  said ;  "  mere  study  is  suf- 
ficient to  impress  the  theories  of  mathematics  on  our  minds ; 
but  this  science  of  God  meets  with  a  resistance  in  man  that 
necessitates  the  intervention  of  a  divine  power.  Christianity 
is  a  regeneration."  The  heavenly  seed  soon  grew  up  in 
Fryth's  heart.f 

These  three  young  scholars  set  to  work  with  enthusiasm. 
They  declared  that  neither  priestly  absolution  nor  any  other 
religious  rite  could  give  remission  of  sins ;  that  the  assurance 
of  pardon  is  obtained  by  faith  alone ;  and  that  faith  purifies 
the  heart.  Then  they  addressed  to  all  men  that  saying  ot 
Christ's  at  which  the  monks  were  so  offended :  Repent  and 
be  converted  ! 

Ideas  so  new  produced  A  great  clamour.     A  famous  orator 

*  Ut  impii  ad  ipstim  per  me  olim  impium  converterentur.  Foxe, 
Acts,  iv.  p.  633. 

+  Through  Tyndale's  instructions  he  first  received  into  his  hear,  the 
seed  of  the  Gospel.  Ibid.  v.  p.  4. 


168  TRUB  ORDINATION. 

undertook  one  day  at  Cambridge  to  show  that  it  was  useless 
to  preach  conversion  to  the  sinner.  "  Thou  who,  for  sixty 
years  past,"  said  he,  "  hast  wallowed  in  thy  lusts,  like  a  sow 
in.  her  mire,*  dost  thou  think  that  thou  canst  in  one  year 
take  as  many  steps  towards  heaven,  and  that  in  thine  age, 
as  thou  hast  done  towards  hell?"  Bilney  left  the  church 
with  indignation.  "  Is  that  preaching  repentance  in  the 
name  of  Jesus?"  he  asked.  "  Does  not  this  priest  tell  us : 
Christ  will  not  save  thee.-}-  Alas !  for  so  many  years  that 
this  deadly  doctrine  has  been  taught  in  Christendom,  not 
one  man  has  dared  open  his  mouth  against  it!"  Many  of 
^the  Cambridge  fellows  were  scandalized  at  Bilney*s  language : 
was  not  the  preacher  whose  teaching  he  condemned  duly 
ordained  by  the  bishop  ?  He  replied :  "  What  would  be  the 
use  of  being  a  hundred  times  consecrated,  were  it  even  by  a 
thousand  papal  bulls,  if  the  inward  calling  is  wanting  ?  J  To 
no  purpose  hath  the  bishop  breathed  on  our  heads  if  we  have 
never  felt  the  breath  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  our  hearts?" 
Thus,  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  Reformation,  England, 
rejecting  the  Romish  superstitions,  discerned  with  extreme 
nicety  what  constitutes  the  essence  of  consecration  to  the 
service  of  the  Lord. 

After  pronouncing  these  noble  words,  Bilney,  who  longed 
for  an  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  shut  himself  up  in  his 
room,  fell  on  his  knees,  and  called  upon  God  to  come  to  the 
assistance  of  his  church.  Then  rising  up,  he  exclaimed,  as 
if  animated  by  a  prophetic  spirit :  "  A  new  time  is  beginning 

The  Christian  assembly  is  about  to  be  renewed Some 

one  is  coming  unto  us,  I  see  him,  I  hear  him — it  is  Jesus 

Christ.§ He  is  the  king,  and  it  is  he  who  will  call  the 

true  ministers  commissioned  to  evangelize  his  people." 

Tyndale.  full  of  the  same  hopes  as  Bilney,  left  Cambridge 
in  the  course  of  the  year  1519.  i.  v  * 

Thus  the  English   Reformation  began  independently  of 

*  Even  as  a  beast  iii  his  own  dung.  Bilnseus  Tonstallo  Episcopo ;  Foxe, 
Acts,  iv.  p.  640. 

+  He  will  not  be  thy  Jesus  or  Saviour.    Ibid. 

£  Without  this  inward  calling  it  helpeth  nothing  before  God  to  be  a 
hundred  times  elect  and  consecrated.  Ibid.  p.  638. 

§  If  it  bo  Christ,  him  that  -cometh  unto  us.    Ibid.  p.  637. 


ALARM  OF  THE  CLERGY.  169 

those  of  Luther  and  Zwingle — deriving  its  origin  from  God 
alone.  In  every  province  of  Christendom  there  was  a  simul- 
taneous action  of  the  divine  word.  The  principle  of  the 
Reformation  at  Oxford,  Cambridge,  and  London  was  the 
Greek  New  Testament,  published  by  Erasmus.  England,  in 
course  of  time,  learnt  to  be  proud  of  this  origin  of  its  Refor- 
mation. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Alarm  of  the  Clergy — The  Two  Days — Thomas  Man's  Preaching — True 
real  Presence— Persecutions  at  Coventry — Standish  preaches  at  St 
Paul's— His  Petition  to  the  King  and  Queen — His  Arguments  and 
Defeat  — Wolsey's  Ambition — First  Overtures  —  Henry  and  Francis 
Candidates  for  the  Empire— Conference  between  Francis  I.  and  Sir 
T.  Boleyn — The  Tiara  promised  to  Wolsey — The  Cardinal's  Intrigues 
with  Charles  and  Francis. 

THIS  revival  caused  great  alarm  throughout  the  Roman 
hierarchy.  Content  with  the  baptism  they  administered, 
they  feared  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost  perfected  by  faith 
in  the  word  of  God.  Some  of  the  clergy,  who  were  full  of 
zeal,  but  of  zeal  without  knowledge,  prepared  for  th*e  struggle, 
and  the  cries  raised  by  the  prelates  were  repeated  by  all  the 
inferior  orders. 

The  first  blows  did^not  fall  on  the  members  of  the  univer- 
sities, but  on  those  humble  Christians,  the  relics  of  Wick- 
liffe's  ministry,  to  whom  the  reform  movement 'among  the 
learned  had  imparted  a  new  life.  The  awakening  of  the 
fourteenth  century  was  about  to  be  succeeded  by  that  of  the 
sixteenth,  and  the  last  gleams  of  the  closing  day  were 
almost  lost  in  the  first  rays  of  that  which  ^as  commencing. 
The  young  doctors  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  aroused  the 
attention  of  the  alarmed  hierarchy,  and  attracted  their  eyes 
to  the  humble  Lollards,  who  here  and  there  still  recalled  the 
days  of  Wickliffe. 

An  artisan  named  Thomas  Man,  sometimes  called  Doctor 
Man,  from  his  knowledge  of  Holy  Scripture,  had  been  in- 

8*  H 


170  THOMAS  MAN'S  PREACHING. 

prisoned  for  his  faith  in  the  priory  of  Frideswide  at  Oxford. 
(1511  A.  D.)  Tormented  by  the  remembrance  of  a  recanta- 
tion which  had  been  extorted  from  him,  he  had  escaped  from 
this  monastery  and  fled  into  the  eastern  parts  of  England, 
where  he  had  preached  the  Word,  supplying  his  daily  wants 
by  the  labour  of  his  hands.*  This  "champion  of  God" 
afterwards  drew  near  the  capital,  and  assisted  by  his  wife, 
the  new  Priscilla  of  this  new  Aquila,  he  proclaimed  the  doc- 
trine of  Christ  to  the  crowd  collected  around  him  in  some 
"  upper  chamber"  of  London,  or  in  some  lonely  meadow  wa- 
tered by  the  Thames,  or  under  the  aged  oaks  of  Windsor 
Forest.  He  thought  with  Chrysostom  of  old,  that  "  all 
priests  are  not  saints,  but  all  saints  are  priests."  -J-  "  He  that 
receiveth  the  word  of  God,"  said  he,  "  receiveth  God  himself; 
that  is  the  true  real  presence.  The  vendors  of  masses  are 
not  the  high-priests  of  this  mystery ;  \  but  the  men  whom 
God  hath  anointed  with  his  Spirit  to  be  kings  and  priests." 
From  six  to  seven  hundred  persons  were  converted  by  his 
preaching.§ 

The  monks,  who  dared  not  as  yet  attack  the  universities, 
resolved  to  fall  upon  those  preachers  who  made  their  temple 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  or  in  some  remote  corner  of  the 
city.  Man  was  seized,  condemned,  and  burnt  alive  on  the 
29th  March  1519. 

And  this  was  not  all.  There  lived  at  Coventry  a  little 
band  of  serious  Christians — four  shoemakers,  a  glover,  a 
hosier,  and  a  widow  named  Smith — who  gave  their  chil- 
dren a  pious  education.  The  Franciscans  were  annoyed  that 
laymen,  and  even  a  woman,  should  dare  meddle  with  reli- 
gious instruction.  On  Ash  Wednesday  (1519),  Simon  Mor- 
ton, the  bishop's  sumner,  apprehended  them  all,  men,  women, 
and  children.  On  the  following  Friday,  t'he  parents  were 
taken  to  the  abbey  of  Mackstock,  about  six  miles  from  Co- 
ventry, and  the  children  to  the  Greyfriars'  convent.  "  Let 
us  see  what  heresies  you  have  been  -taught?"  said  Friar 

*  Work  thereby  to  sustain  his  poor  life.    Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  209, 

•f-  Chrysostom,  43  Homily  on  Matth. 

J  He  called  them  pilled  knaves.    Foie,  iv.  p.  209. 

§Ibid.  p.  211. 


THE  COVENTRY  MARTYRS.  171 

Stafford  to  the  intimidated  little  ones.  The  poor  children 
confessed  they  had  been  taught  in  English  the  Lord's  prayer, 
the  apostles'  creed,  and  the  ten  commandments.  On  hear- 
ing this,  Stafford  told  them  angrily  :  "  I  forbid  you  (unless 
you  wish  to  be  burnt  as  your  parents  will  be)  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  Pater,  the  credo,  or  the  ten  command- 
ments in  English" 

Five  weeks  after  this,  the  men  were  condemned  to  be 
burnt  alive ;  but  the  judges  had  compassion  on  the  widow 
because  of  her  young  family  (for  she  was  their  only  sup- 
port), and  let  her  go.  It  was  night :  Morton  offered  to  see 
Dame  Smith  home ;  she  took  his  arm,  and  they  threaded 
the  dark  and  narrow  streets  of  Coventry.  "Eh!  eh!"  said 
the  apparitor  on  a  sudden,  "what  have  we  here?"  He 
heard  in  fact  the  noise  of  paper  rubbing  against  something. 
"  What  have  you  got  there  ? "  he  continued,  dropping  her 
arm,  and  putting  his  hand  up  her  sleeve,  from  which,  he 
drew  out  a  parchment.  Approaching  a  window  whence 
issued  the  faint  rays  of  a  lamp,  he  examined  the  mysterious 
scroll,  and  found  it  to  contain  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  apostles' 
creed,  and  the  ten  commandments  in  English.  "  Oh,  oh ! 
sirrah!"  said  he;  "come  along.  As  good  now  as  another 
time!"*  Then  seizing  the  poor  widow  by  the  arm,  he 
dragged  her  befoie  the  bishop.  Sentence  of  death  was  im- 
mediately pronounced  on  her ;  and  on  the  4th  of  April,  Dame 
Smith,  Robert  Hatchets,  Archer,  Hawkins,  Thomas  Bond, 
Wrigsham,  and  Landsdale,  were  burnt  alive  at  Coventry  in 
the  Little  Park,  for  the  crime  of  teaching  their  children  the 
Lord's  prayer,  the  apostles'  creed,  and  the  commandments  of 
God. 

But  what  availed  it  to  silence  these  obscure  lips,  so  long 
as  the  Testament  of  Erasmus  could  speak  ?  Lee's  conspir- 
acy must  be  revived.  Standish,  bishop  of  St  Asaph,  was  a 
narrow-minded  man,  rather  fanatical,  but  probably  sincere, 
of  great  courage,  and  not  without  some  degree  of  piety. 
This  prelate,  being  determined  to  preach  a  crusade  against 
the  New  Testament,  began  at  London,  in  St  Paul's  cathe- 
dral, before  the  mayor  and  corporation.  "  Away  with  these 
*  Foie,  Aeta,  iv.  p.  857. 


172  STANDISH  AT  ST  PAUL'S. 

-new  translations,"  he  said,- "  or  else  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  threatened  with  utter  ruin."*  But  Standish  was 
deficient  in  tact,  and  instead  of  confining  himself  to  general 
statements,  like  most  of  his  party,  he  endeavoured  to  show 
how  far  Erasmus  had  corrupted  the  gospel,  and  continued 
thus  in  a  whining  voice :  "  Must  I  who  for  so  many  years 
have  been  a  doctor  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  who  have 
always  read  in  my  Bible  :  In  principio  erat  VERBUM — must 
I  now  be  obliged  to  read :  In  principio  erat  SERMO  ?"  for 
thus  had  Erasmus  translated  the  opening  words  of  St  John's 
Gospel.  Risum  teneatis,  whispered  one  to  another,  when 
they  heard  this  puerile  charge :  "  My  lord,"  proceeded  the 
bishop,  turning  to  the  mayor,  "  magistrates  of  the  city,  and 
citizens  all,  fly  to  the  succour  of  religion!"  Standish  con- 
tinued his  pathetic  appeals,  but  his  oratory  was  all  in  vain ; 
some  stood  unmoved,  others  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and 
others  grew  impatient.  The  citizens  of  London  seemed  de- 
termined to  support  liberty  and  the  Bible. 

Standish,  seeing  the  failure  of  his  attack  in  the  city, 
sighed  and  groaned  and  prayed,  and  repeated  mass  against 
the  so  much  dreaded  book.  BuS  he  also  made  up  his  mind 
to  do  more.  One  day,  during  the  rejoicings  at  court  for  the 
betrothal  of  the  Princess  Mary,  then  two  years  old,  with  a 
French  prince  who  was  just  born,  St  Asaph,  absorbed  and 
absent  in  the  midst  of  the  gay  crowd,  meditated  a  bold  step. 
Suddenly  he  made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  threw 
himself  at  the  feet  of  the  king  and  queen.  All  were  thun- 
derstruck, and  asked  one  another  what  the  old  bishop  could 
mean.  "  Great  king,"  said  he,  "  your  ancestors,  who  have- 
reigned  over  this  island, — and  yours,  0  great  queen,  who 
have  governed  Aragon,  were  always  distinguished  by  their 
zeal  for  the  church.  Show  yourselves  worthy  of  your  fore- 
fathers. Times  full  of  danger  are  come  upon  us,-j-  a  book 
has  just  appeared,  and  been  published  too  by  Erasmus  !  It 
is  such  a  book  that,  if  you  close  not  your  kingdom  against 
it,  it  is  all  over  with  the  religion  of  Christ  among  us." 

*  Imminere  christianse  religionis  vKvoXir^iav,  nisi  novae  translations 
omnes  subito  de  medio  tollerentur.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  596. 
f  Adesso  tempora  longe  peri«ulosissima.    Eraem.  Ep.  p.  597. 


HIS  ARGUMENTS  AND  DEFEAT.  173 

The  bishop  ceased,  and  a  dead  silence  ensued.  The  de- 
vout Standish,  fearing  lest  Henry's  well-known  love  ot 
learning  should  be  an  obstacle  to  his  prayer,  raised  his  eyes 
and  his  hands  toward  heaven,  and,  kneeling  in  the  midst  of 
the  courtly  assembly,  exclaimed  in  a  sorrowful  tone :  "  0 

Christ!  0  Son  of  God!  save  thy  spouse! for  no  man 

cometh  to  her  help."* 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  prelate,  whose  courage  was  wor- 
thy of  a  better  cause,  rose  up  and  waited.  Every  one 
strove  to  guess  at  the  king's  thoughts.  Sir  Thomas  More 
was  present,  and  he  could  not  forsake  his  friend  Erasmus. 
""What  are  the  heresies  this  book  is  likely  to  engender?" 
he  inquired.  After  the  sublime  came  the  ridiculous.  With 
the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand,  touching  successively  the 
fingers  of  his  left,f  Standish  replied :  "  First,  this  book  de- 
stroys the  resurrection  ;  secondly,  it  annuls  the  sacrament  of 
marriage  ;  thirdly,  it  abolishes  the  mass."  Then,  uplifting 
his  thumb  and  two  fingers,  he  showed  them  to  the  assembly 
with  a  look  of  triumph.  The  bigoted  Catherine  shuddered 
as  she  saw  Standish's  three  fingers, — signs  of  the  three  here- 
sies of  Erasmus  ;  and  Henry  himself,  an  admirer  of  Aquinas, 
was  embarrassed.  It  was  a  critical  moment :  the  Greek  Tes- 
tament was  on  the  point  of  being  banished  from  England. 
"  The  proof,  the  proof,"  exclaimed  the  friends  of  literature. 
"  I  will  give  it,"  rejoined  the  impetuous  Standish,  and  then 
once  more  touching  his  left  thumb:  "Firstly,"  he  said,..:... 
But  he  brought  forward  such  foolish  reasons,  that  even  the 
women  and  the  unlearned  were  ashamed  of  them.  The 
more  he  endeavoured  to  justify  his  assertions,  the  more  con- 
fused he  became :  he  affirmed  among  other  things  that  the 
Epistles  of  St  Paul  were  written  in  Ilebrew.  "  There  is  not 
a  schoolboy  that  does  not  know  that  Paul's  epistles  were 
written  in  Greek"  said  a  doctor  of  divinity,  kneeling  before 
the  king.  Henry,  blushing  for  the  bishop,  turned  the  con- 
versation, and  Standish,  ashamed  at  having  made  a  Greek 
write  to  the  Greeks  in  Hebrew,  would  have  withdrawn  uu- 

*  Caepit  obsccrare  Christum  dignaretur   ipse  sure   spons;e   opitulari. 
Erasm.  Ep.  p.  598. 
t  Et  rem  in  digitos  porrectos  dispartiens.    Ibid. 


174  WOLSEY'S  AMBITION. 

observed.  "  The  beetle  must  not  attack  the  eagle,"*  was 
whispered  In  his  ear.  Thus  did  the  book  of  God  remain  in 
England  the  standard  of  a  faithful  band,  who  found  in  its 
pages  the  motto,  which  the  church  of  Rome  had  usurped : 
The  truth  is  in  me  alone. 

A  more  formidable  adversary  than  Standish  aspired  to 
combat  the  Reformation,  not  only  in  England,  but  in  all  the 
"West.  One  of  those  ambitious  designs,  which  easily  ger- 
minate in  the  human  heart,  developed  itself  in  the  soul  of 
thte  chief  minister  of  Henry  VIII. ;  and  if  this  project  suc- 
ceeded, it  promised  to  secure  for  ever  the  empire  of  the  pa- 
pacy on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and  perhaps  in  the  whole 
of  Christendom. 

Wolsey,  as  chancellor  and  legate,  governed  both  in  state 
and  in  church,  and  could,  without  an  untruth,  utter  his  fa- 
mous Ego  et  rex  meus.  Having  reached  so  great  a  height, 
he  desired  to  soar  still  higher.  The  favourite  of  Henry  VIII. 
almost  his  master,  treated  as  a  brother  by  the  emperor,  by 
the  king  of  France,  and  by  other  crowned  heads,  invested 
with  the  title  of.Majesty,  the  peculiar  property  of  sovereigns,f 
the  cardinal,  sincere  in  his  faith  in  the  popedom,  aspired  to 
fill  the  throne  of  the  pontiffs,  and  thus  become  Deus  in  terris. 
He  thought,  that  if  God  permitted  a  Luther  to  appear  in  the 
world,  it  was  because  he  had  a  Wolsey  to  oppose  to  him. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  fix  the  precise  moment  when  this 
immoderate  desire  entered  his  mind :  it  was  about  the  end 
of  1518  that  it  began  to  show'itself.  The  bishop  of  Ely, 
ambassador  at  the  court  of  Francis  I.,  being  in  conference 
with  that  prince  on  the  18th  of  December  in  that  year,  said 
to  him  mysteriously :  "  The  cardinal  has  an  idea  in  his 

mind on  which  he  can  unbosom  himself  to  nobody 

except  it  be  to  your  majesty."     Francis  understood  him. 

An  event  occurred  to  facilitate  the  cardinal's  plans.  If 
Wolsey  desired  to  be  the  first  priest,  Henry  desired  to  be 
the  first  king.  The  imperial  crown,  vacant  by  the  death  of 

*  Scarabseus  ille  qui  maximo  suo  malo  aquilam  qusesivit.  Erasm.  Ep. 
p.  555. 

f  Consultissima  tua  Majestas.  Vestra  sublimis  et  longe  reverendissi- 
ma  Majestas,  etc.  Fiddes,  Bodleian  Papers,  p.  178. 


HENRY  VIII. FRANCIS  I.  175 

Maximilian,  was  sought  by  two  princes: — by  Charles  of 
Austria,  a  cold  and  calculating  man,  caring  little  about  the 
pleasures  and  even  the  pomp  of  power,  but  forming  great 
designs,  and  knowing  how  to  pursue  them  with  energy ;  and 
by  Francis  I.,  a  man  of  less  penetrating  glance  and  less  in- 
defatigable activity,  but  more  daring  and  impetuous.  Henry 
VIII.,  inferior  to  both,  passionate,  capricious,  and  selfish, 
thought  himself  strong  enough  to  contend  with  such  puis- 
sant competitors,  and  secretly  strove  to  win  "  the  monarchy 
of  all  Christendom."*  Wolsey  flattered  himself  that,  hidden 
under  the  cloak  of  his  master's  ambition,  he  might  satisfy 
his  own.  If  he  procured  the  crown  of  the  Caesars  for  Henry, 
he  might  easily  obtain  the  tiara  of  the  popes  for  himself;  if 
he  failed,  the  least  that  could  be  done  to  compensate  Eng- 
land for  the  loss  of  the  empire,  would  be  to  give  the  sover- 
eignty of  the  church  to  her  prime  minister. 

Henry  first  sounded  the  king  of  France.  Sir  Thomas 
Boleyn  appeared  one  day  before  Francis  I.  just  as  the  latter 
was  returning  from  mass.  The  king,  desirous  to  anticipate 
a  confidence  that  might  be  embarrassing,  took  the  ambassa- 
dor aside  to  the  window  and  whispered  to  him :  "  Some  of 
the  electors  have  offered  me  the  empire ;  I  hope  your  master 
will  be  favourable  to  me."  Sir  Thomas,  in  confusion,  made 
some  vague  reply,  and  the  chivalrous  king,  following  up  his 
idea,  took  the  ambassador  firmly  by  one  hand,  and  laying 
the  other  on  his  breast,-}-  exclaimed :  "  By  my  faith,  if  I  be- 
come emperor,  in  three  years- 1  shall  be  in  Constantinople, 
or  I  shall  die  on  the  road!"  This  was  not  what  Henry 
wanted ;  but  dissembling  his  wishes,  he  took  care  to  inform 
Francis  that  he  would  support  his  candidature.  Upon  hear- 
ing this  Francis  raised  his  hat  and  exclaimed  :  "  I  desire  to 
see  the  king  of  England ;  I  will  see  him,  I  tell  you,  even  if 
I  go  to  London  with  only  one  page  and  one  lackey." 

Francis  was  well  aware  that  if  he  threatened  the  king's 
ambition,  he  must  flatter  the  minister's,  and  recollecting  the 
hint  given  by  the  bishop  of  Ely,  he  said  one  day  to  Boleyn : 

*  Cotton  MSS.  Brit.  Mas.    Calig.  D.  7,  p.  88. 

t  He  took  me  hard  by  the  wrist  with  one  hand,  and  laid  the  other 
upon  his  breast.  Ibid.  D.  8,  p.  93. 


176  THE  CARDINAL'S  PRACTICES. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  my  brother  of  England  and  I  could 

do,  indeed  ought  to  do something  for  the  cardinal.  He 

was  prepared  by  God  for  the  good  of  Christendom one  of 

the  greatest  men  in  the  church and  on  the  word  of  a 

king,  if  he  consents,  I  will  do  it."  A  few  minutes  after  he 
continued :  "  Write  and  tell  the  cardinal,  that  if  he  aspires 
to  be  the  head  of  the  church,  and  if  anything  should  happen 
to  the  reigning  pope,  I  will  promise  him  fourteen  cardinals 
on  my  part.*  Let  us  only  act  in  concert,  your  master  and 
me,  and  I  promise  you,  Master  Ambassador,  that  neither  pope 
nor  emperor  shall  be  created  in  Europe -without  our  consent/' 

But  Henry  did  not  act  in  concert  with  the  king  of  France. 
At  Wolsey's  instigation  he  supported  three  candidates  at 
once :  at  Paris  he  was  for  Francis  I. ;  at  Madrid  for  Charles 
V. ;  and  at  Frankfort  for  himself.  The  kings  of  France  and 
England  failed,  and  on  the  10th  August,  Pace,  Henry's  en- 
voy at  Frankfort,  having  returned  to  England,  desired  to 
console  the  king  by  mentioning  the  sums  of  money  which 
Charles  had  spent.  "  By  the  mass!"f  exclaimed  the  king, 
congratulating  himself  at  not  having  obtained  the  crown  at 
so  dear  a  rate.  Wolsey  proposed  to  sing  a  Te  Deum  in  St 
Paul's,  and  bonfires  were  lighted  in  the  city. 

The  cardinal's  rejoicings  were  not  misplaced.  Charles 
had  scarcely  ascended  the  imperial  throne,  in  despite  of  the 
king  of  France,  when  these  two  princes  swore  eternal  hatred 
of  each  other,  and  each  was  anxious  to  win  over  Henry  VIII. 
At  one  time  Charles,  under  the  pretence  of  seeing  his  uncle 
and  aunt,  visited  England ;  at  another,  Francis  had  an  in- 
terview with  the  king  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Calais.  The 
cardinal  shared  in  the  flattering  attentions  of  the  two  mon- 
archs.  "  It  is  easy  for  the  king  of  Spain,  who  has  become 
the  head  of  the  empire,  to  raise  whomsoever  he  pleases  to 
the  supreme  pontificate,"  said  the  young  emperor  to  him ; 
and  at  these  words  the  ambitious  cardinal  surrendered  him- 
self to  Maximilian's  successor.  But  erelong  Francis  I.  flat- 
tered him  in  his  turn,  and  Wolsey  replied  also  to  his 

*  He  will  assure  you  full  fourteen  cardinals  for  him.    Cotton  MSS., 
Calig.  D.  F.  p.  98. 
f  Bi  the  messe  !    State  Papers,  i.  9. 


TYNDALE.  177 

advances.  The  king  of  France  gave  Henry  tournaments 
and  banquets  of  Asiatic  luxury ;  and  AVolsey,  whose  coun- 
tenance yet  bore  the  marks  of  the  graceful  smile  with  which 
he  had  taken  leave  of  Charles,  smiled  also  on  Francis,  and 
sang  mass  in  his  honour.  He  engaged  the  hand  of  the 
Princess  Mary  to  the  dauphin  of  France  and  to  Charles  V., 
leaving  the  care  of  unravelling  the  matter  to  futurity. 
Then,  proud  of  his  skilful  practices,  he  returned  to  London 
full  of  hope.  By  walking  in  falsehood  he  hoped  to  attain 
the  tiara :  and  if  it  was  yet  too  far  above  him,  there  were 
certain  gospellers  in  England  who  might  serve  as  a  ladder  to 
reach  it.  Murder  might  serve  as  the  complement  to  fraud. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Tyndale— Sodbury  Hall— Sir  John  aud  Lady  Walsh— Table-Talk— The 
Holy  Scriptures— The  Images— The  Anchor  of  Faith— A  Roman  Camp 
— Preaching  of  Faith  and  Works— Tyndale  accused  by  the  Priests— 
They  tear  up  what  he  has  planted — Tyndale  resolTes  to  translate  the 
Bible— His  first  Triumph— The  Priests  in  the  Taverns— Tyndale  sum- 
moned before  the  Chancellor  of  Worcester — Consoled  by  an  aged  Doc- 
tor— Attacked  by  a  Schoolman— His  Secret  becomes  known— He  leaves 
Sodbury  Hall. 

WHILST  this  ambitious  prelate  was  thinking  of  nothing  but 
his  own  glory  and  that  of  the  Roman  pontificate,  a  great 
desire,  but  of  a  very  different  nature,  was  springing  up  in 
the  heart  of  one  of  the  humble  "  gospellers  "  of  England..  If 
Wolsey  had  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  throne  of  the  popedom  in 
order  to  seat  himself  there,  Tyndale  thought  of  raising  up 
the  true  throne  of  the  church  by  re-establishing  the  legiti- 
mate sovereignty  of  the  word  of  God.  The  Greek  Testa- 
ment of  Erasmus  had  been  one  step ;  aud  it  now  became 
necessary  to  place  before  the  simple  what  the  king  of  the 
schools  had  given  to  the  learned.  This  idea,  which  pursued 
the  young  Oxford  doctor  everywhere,  was  to  be  the  mighty 
mainspring  of  the  English  Reformation. 

H2 


178  SODBUKY  HALL. 

On  the  slope  of  Sodbury  hill  there  stood  a  plain  but  large 
mansion,  commanding  an  extensive  view  over  the  beautiful 
vale  of  the  Severn,  where  Tyndale  was  born.  It  was  inhab- 
ited by  a  family  of  gentle  birth :  Sir  John  Walsh  had  shone 
in  the  tournaments  of  the  court,  and  by  this  means  con- 
ciliated the  favour  of  his  prince.  He  kept  open  table ;  and 
gentlemen,  deans,  abbots,  archdeacons,  doctors  of  divinity, 
and  fat  rectors,  charmed  by  Sir  John's  cordial  welcome  and 
by  his  good  dinners,  were  ever  at  his  house.  The  former 
brother-at-arms  of  Henry  VIII.  felt  an  interest  in  the  ques- 
tions then  discussing  throughout  Christendom.  Lady  Walsh, 
herself  a  sensible  and  generous  woman,  lost  not  a  word  of 
the  animated  conversation  of  her  guests,  and  discreetly  tried 
to  incline  the  balance  to  the  side  of  truth.* 

Tyndale,  after  leaving  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  had  returned 
to  the  home  of  his  fathers.  Sir  John  had  requested  him  to 
educate  his  children,  and  he  had  accepted.  William  was 
then  in  the  prime  of  life  (he  was  about  thirty-six),  well  in- 
structed in  Scripture,  and  full  of  desire  to  show  forth  the 
light  which  God  had  given  him.  Opportunities  were  not 
wanting.  Seated  at  table  with  all  the  doctors  welcomed  by 
Sir  John,-J-  Tyndale  entered  into  conversation  with  them. 
They  talked  of  the  learned  men  of  the  day — of  Erasmus 
much,  and  sometimes  of  Luther,  who  was  beginning  to 
astonish  England.  ^  They  discussed  several  questions  touch- 
ing the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  sundry  points  of  theology. 
Tyndale  expressed  his  convictions  with  admirable  clearness, 
supported  them  with  great  learning,  and  kept  his  ground 
against  all  with  unbending  courage.  These  animated  con- 
versations in  the  vale  of  the  Severn  are  one  of  the  essential 
features  of  the  picture  presented  by  the  Reformation  in  this 
country.  The  historians  of  antiquity  invented  the  speeches 
whiok  they  have  put  into  the  mouths  of  their  heroes.  In 
our  times  history,  without  inventing,  should  make  us  ac- 
quainted with  the  sentiments  of  the  persons  of  whom  it 

*  Lady  Walsh,  a  stout  and  wise  woman.    Foxc,  Acts,  v.  p.  115. 
f  Who  were  together  with  Master  Tyndale  sitting  at  the  same  table. 
Ibid. 
J  Talk  of  learned  men,  as  of  Luther  and  Erasmus,  &c.    Ibid. 


*          TABLE-TALK  AT  BODBURY.  179 

treats.  It  is  sufficient  to  read  Tyndale's  works  to  form 
some  idea  of  these  conversations.  It  is  from  his  writings 
that  the  following  discussion  has  been  drawn. 

In  the  dining-room  of  the  old  hall  a  varied  group  was 
assembled  round  the  hospitable  table.  There  were  Sir  John 
and  Lady  Walsh,  a  few  gentlemen  of  the  neighbourhood, 
with  several  abbots,  deans,  monks,  and  doctors,  in  their  re- 
spective costumes.  Tyndale  occupied  the  humblest  place, 
and  generally  kept  Erasmus's  New  Testament  within  reach 
in  order  to  prove  what  he  advanced.*  Numerous  domestics 
were  moving  about  engaged  in  waiting  on  the  guests ;  and 
at  length  the  conversation,  after  wandering  a  little,  took  a 
more  precise  direction.  The  priests  grew  impatient  when 
they  saw  the  terrible  volume  appear.  "  Your  Scriptures 
only  serve  to  make  heretics,"  they  exclaimed.  "On  the  con- 
trary," replied  Tyndale,  "  the  source  of  all  heresies  is  pride; 
now  the  word  of  God  strips  man  of  everything  and  leaves  him 
as  bare  as  Job."-}- — "  The  word  of  God  I  why  even  we  don't 
understand  your  word,  how  can  the  vulgar  understand  it?" — 
"  You  do  not  understand  it,"  rejoined  Tyndale,  "  because  you 
look  into  it  only  for  foolish  questions,  as  you  would  into  our 
Lady's  'Matins  or  Merlin's  Prophecies.^  Now  the  Scriptures 
are  a  clue  which  we  must  follow,  without  turning  aside,  un- 
til we  arrive  at  Christ ;  §  for  Christ  is  the  end." — "  And  I 
tell  you,"  shouted  out  a  priest,  "  that  the  Scriptures  are  a 
Daedalian  labyrinth,  rather  than  Ariadne's  clue — a  conjur- 
ing book  wherein  everybody  finds  what  he  wants." — "Alas!" 
replied  Tyndale ;  "  you  read  them  without  Jesus  Christ ; 
that's  why  they  are  an  obscure  book  to  you.  What  do  I 
say  ?  a  den  of  thorns  where  you  only  escape  from  the  briers 
to  be  caught  by  the  brambles."  ||  "No!"  exclaimed  another 
clerk,  heedless  of  contradicting  his  colleague,  "  nothing  is 

"  When  they  at  any  time  did  vary  from  Tyndale  in  opinions  and  judg- 
ment, he  would  show  them  in  the  book.  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  115. 

t  Tyndale,  Expositions  (Park.  Soc.)  p.  140. 

J  Ibid.  p.  141. 

§  So  along  by  the  Scripture  as  by  a  line  until  thou  come  at  Christ. 
Tynd.  Works,  i.  3T>4  (ed.  Russell). 

H  A  grave  of  briers  ;  if  thou  loose  thyself  in  one  place  tb/xi  art  caught 
I-  •  other.  Tyndale,  Expositions,  p.  5. 


180  THE  ANCHOR  OF  FAITH.  * 

obscure  to  us ;  it  is  we  who  give  the  Scriptures,  and  we  who 
explain  them  to  you." — "  You  would  lose  both  your  time  and 
your  trouble,"  said  Tyndale ;  "  do  you  know  who  taught  the 
eagles  to  find  their  prey?*  Well,  that  same  God  teaches 
his  hungry  children  to  find  their  Father  in  his  word.  Far 
from  having  given  us  the  Scriptures,  it  is  you  who  have 
hidden  them  from  us ;  it  is  you  who  burn  those  who  teach 
them,  and  if  you  could,  you  would  burn  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves." 

Tyndale  was  not  satisfied  with  merely  laying  down  the 
great  principles  of  faith:  he  always  sought  after  what  he 
calls  "  the  sweet  marrow  within ;"  but  to  the  divine  unction 
he  added  no  little  humour,  and  unmercifully  ridiculed  the 
superstitions  of  his  adversaries.  "  You  set  candles  before 
images,"  he  said  to  them ;  "  and  since  you  give  them  light, 
why  don't  you  give  them  food  ?  Why  don't  you  make  their 
bellies  hollow,  and  put  victuals  and  drink  inside  ?•{•  To  serve 
God  by  such  mummeries  is  treating  him  like  a  spoilt  child, 
whom  you  pacify  with  a  toy  or  with  a  horse  made  of  a 
stick."  J 

But  the  learned  Christian  soon  returned  to  more  serious 
thoughts ;  and  when  his  adversaries  extolled  the  papacy  as 
the  power  that  would  save  the  church  in  the  tempest,  he 
replied :  "  Let  us  only  take  on  board  the  anchor  of  faith, 
after  having  dipped  it  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  §  and  when  the 
storm  bursts  upon  us,  let  us  boldly  cast  the  anchor  into  the 
sea ;  then  you  may  be  sure  the  ship  will  remain  safe  on  the 
great  waters."  And,  in  fine,  if  his  opponents  rejected  any 
doctrine  of  the  truth,  Tyndale  (says  the  chronicler)  opening 
his  Testament  would  set  his  finger  on  the  verse  which  refuted 
the  Romish  error,  and  exclaim :  "  Look  and  read."  |[ 

The  beginnings  of  the  English  Reformation  are  not  to  be 
found,  as  we  have  seen,  in  a  material  ecclesiasticism,  which 

*  Tyndale,  Answer  to  More  (Park.  Soc.),  p.  49. 

f  Make  a  hollow  belly  in  the  image.    Ibid.  p.  81. 

%  Make  him  a  horse  of  a  stick.    Tyndale's  Works  (ed.  Russell),  ii.  475. 

§  Ibid.     Expositions  (Park.  Soc.),  p.  15. 

t|  And  lay  plainly  before  them  the  open  and  manifest  places  of  the 
Scriptures,  to  confute  their  errors  and  confirm  his  sayings.  JFoxe,  Acts, 
v.  p.  115. 


ORIGIN  OP  THE  REFORMATION.  13  J 

has  been  decorated  with  the  name  of  English  Catholicism: 
they  arc  essentially  spiritual,  The  Divine  Word,  the  creator 
of  the  new  life  in  the  individual,  is  also  the  founder  and  re- 
former of  the  church.  The  reformed  churches,  and  particu- 
larly the  reformed  churches  of  Great  Britain,  belong  to 
evangelism. 

The  contemplation  of  God's  works  refreshed  Tyndale  after 
the  discussions  he  had  to  maintain  at  his  patron's  table.  He 
would  often  ramble  to  the  top  of  Sodbury  hill,  and  there 
repose  amidst  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  Roman  camp  which 
crowned  the  summit.  It  was  here  that  Queen  Margaret  of 
Anjou  halted ;  and  here  too  rested  Edward  IV.,  who  pursued 
her,  before  the  fatal  battle  of  Tewkeshury,  which  caused  this 
princess  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  White  Rose.  Amidst 
these  ruins,  monuments  of  the  Roman  invasion  and  of  the 
civil  dissensions  of  England,  Tyndale  meditated  upon  other 
battles,  which  were  to  restore  liberty  and  truth  to  Christen- 
dom. Then  rousing  himself  he  would  descend  the  hill,  and 
courageously  resume  his  task. 

Behind  the  mansion  stood  a  little  church,  overshadowed 
by  two  large  yew  trees,  and  dedicated  to  St  Adeline.  On 
Sundays,  Tyndale  used  to  preach  there,  Sir  John  and  Lady 
Walsh,  with  the  eldest  of  the  children,  occupying  the  mano- 
rial pew.  This  humble  sanctuary  was  filled  by  their  house- 
hold and  tenantry,  listening  attentively  to  the  words  of  their 
teacher,  which  fell  from  his  lips  like  the  waters  of  Shiloah 
that  go  softl'i.  Tyndale  was  very  lively  in  conversation ;  but 
he  explained  the  Scriptures  with  so  much  unction,  says  the 
chronicler,  "  that  his  hearers  thought  they  heard  St  John 
himself."  If  he  resembled  John  in  the  mildness  of  his  lan- 
guage, he  resembled  Paul  in  the  strength  of  his  doctrine. 
"  According  to  the  pope,"  he  said,  "  we  must  first  he  good 
after  his  doctrine,  and  compel  God  to  be  good  again  for  our 
goodnesi  Nay,  verily,  God's  goodness  is  the  root  of  all 
goodness.  Antichrist  turncth  the  tree  of  salvation  topsy- 
turvy:* he  planteth  the  branches,  and  setteth  the  roots 
upwards.  We  must  put  it  straight As  the  husband 

*  Antichrist  turneth  the  roots  of  the  trees  upward.    Tyndale,  Doc 
trinal  Treatises  (Park.  Soc.),  p.  295. 


182  TYNDALE  THWARTED  BY  THE  PRIESTS. 

marrieth  the  wife,  before  he  can  have  any  lawful  children  by 
her;  even  so  faith  justifieth.us  to  make  us  fruitful  in  good 
works.*  But  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  should  remain 
barren.  Faith  is  the  holy  candle  wherewith  we  must  bless 
ourselves  at  the  last  hour ;  without  it,  you  will  go  astray  in 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  though  you  had  a  thousand 
tapers  lighted  around  your  bed."  -f- 

The  priests,  irritated  at  such  observations,  determined  to  ruin 
Tyndale,  and  some  of  them  invited  Sir  John  and  his  lady  to  an 
entertainment,  at  which  he  was  not  present.  During  dinner, 
they  so  abused  the  young  doctor  and  his  New  Testament, 
that  his  patrons  retired  greatly  annoyed  that  their  tutor 
should  have  made  so  many  enemies.  They  told  him  all  they 
had  heard,  and  Tyndale  successfully  refuted  his  adversaries' 
arguments.  "What!"  exclaimed  Lady  Walsh,  "there  are 
some  of  these  doctors  worth  one  hundred,  some  two  hundred, 

and  some  three  hundred  pounds,^ and  were  it  reason, 

think  you,  Master  William,  that  we  should  believe  you  be- 
fore them  ?"  Tyndale,  opening  the  New  Testament,  replied 
"  No !  it  is  not  me  you  should  believe.  That  is  what  the 
priests  have  told  you ;  but  look  here,  St  Peter,  St  Paul,  and 
the  Lord  himself  say  quite  the  contrary."  §  The  word  of 
God  was  there,  positive  and  supreme :  the  sword  of  the  spirit 
cut  the  difficulty. 

Before  long  the  manor-house  and  St  Adeline's  church  be- 
came too  narrow  for  Tyndale's  zeal.  He  preached  every 
Sunday,  sometimes  in  a  village,  sometimes  in  a  town.  The 
inhabitants  of  Bristol  assembled  to  hear  him  in  a  large 
meadow,  called  St  Austin's  Green.||  But  no  sooner  had  he 
preached  in  any  place  than  the  priests  hastened  thither,  tore 
up  what  he  had  planted,^}  called  him  a  heretic,  and  threatened 

*  Tyndale,  Parable  of  the  Wicked  Mammon.  Doctrinal  Treatises 
(Park.  Soc.),  p.  126. 

t  Though  thou  hadst  a  thousand  holy  candles  about  thee.    Ibid.  p.  48. 

J  Well,  there  was  such  a  doctor  who  may  dispend  a  hundred  pounds. 
Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  115. 

§  Answering  by  the  Scriptures  maintained  the  truth.    Ibid. 

[|  Ibid.  p.  117. 

•fl  Whatsoever  truth  is  taught  them,  these  enemies  of  all  truth  quench 
It  again.  Tynd.  Doe'r.  Tr.  p.  "94. 


HE  RESOLVES  TO  TRANSLATE  THE  BIBLE.  183 

to  expel  from  the  church  every  one  who  dared  listen  to  him. 
When  Tyndale  returned  he  found  the  field  laid  waste  by -the 
enemy ;  and  looking  sadly  upon  it,  as  the  husbandman  who 
sees  his  corn  beaten  down  by  the  hail,  and  his  rich  furrows 
turned  into  a  barren  waste,  he  exclaimed :  "  What  is  to  be 
done  ?  While  I  am  sowing  in  one  place,  the  enemy  ravages 
the  field  I  have  just  left.  I  cannot  be  everywhere.  Oh  1  if 
Christians  possessed  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  their  own  tongue, 
they  could  of  themselves  withstand  these  sophists.  Without 
the  Bible  it  is  impossible  to  establish  the  laity  in  the  truth."* 

Then  a  great  idea  sprang  up  in  Tyndale's  heart :  "  It  was 
in  the  language  of  Israel,"  said  he,  "  that  the  Psalms  were 
sung  in  the  temple  of  Jehovah ;  and  shall  not  the  gospel 

speak  the  language  of  England  among  us? Ought  the 

church  to  have  less  light  at  noonday  than  at  the  dawn? 

Christians  must  read  the  New  Testament  in  their  mother- 
tongue."  Tyndale  believed  that  this  idea  proceeded  from 
God.  The  new  sun  would  lead  to  the  discovery  of  a  new 
world,  and  the  infallible  rule  would  make  ah1  human  diversi- 
ties give  way  to  a  divine  unity.  "  One  holdeth  this  doctor, 
another  that,"  said  Tyndale ;  "  one  followeth  Duns  Scotus, 
another  St  Thomas,  another  Bonaventure,  Alexander  Hales, 
Raymond  of  Penaford,  Lyra,  Gorram,  Hugh  de  Sancto 

Victgre,  and  so  many  others  besides Now,  each  of  these 

authors  contradicts  the  other.  How  then  can  we  distinguish 

him  who  says  right  from  him  who  says  wrong? How? 

Verily,  by  God's  word."f  Tyndale  hesitated  no  longer 

While  Wolsey  sought  to  win  the  papal  tiara,  the 

humble  tutor  of  Sodbury  undertook  to  place  the  torch  of 
heaven  in  the  midst  of  his  fellow-countrymen.  The  transla- 
tion of  the  Bible  shall  be  the  work  of  his  life. 

The  first  triumph  of  the  word  was  a  revolution  in  the 
manor-house.  In  proportion  as  Sir  John  and  Lady  Walsh 
acquired  a  taste  ftTr  the  gospel,  they  became  disgusted  with 
the  priests.  The  clergy  were  not  so  often  invited  to  Sod- 

*  Impossible  to  establish  the  lay  people  in  any  truth,  except  tho  Scrip- 
tare  were  plainly  laid  before  their  eyes  in  their  mother-tongue.  Tynd. 
Doctr.  Tr.  p.  394. 

+  Ibid.  p.  140. 

I 


184  THE  PRIESTS  IN  THE  ALEHOUSES. 

bury,  nor  did  they  meet  with  the  same  welcome.*  They 
soon  discontinued  their  visits,  and  thought  of  nothing  but 
how  they  could  drive  Tyndale  from  the  mansion  and  from 
the  diocese. 

Unwilling  to  compromise  themselves  in  this  warfare,  they 
sent  forward  some  of  those  light  troops  which  the  church  has 
always  at  her  disposal.  Mendicant  friars  and  poor  curates, 
who  could  hardly  understand  their  missal,  and  the  most 
learned  of  whom  made  Albertus  de  secretis  mulierum  their 
habitual  study,  fell  upon  Tyndale  like  a  pack  of  hungry 
hounds.  They  trooped  to  the  alehouses,-j-  and  calling  for  a 
jug  of  beer,  took  their  seats,  one  at  one  table,  another  at 
another.  They  invited  the  peasantry  to  drink  with  them, 
and  entering  into  conversation  with  them,  poured  forth  a 
thousand  curses  upon  the  daring  reformer:  " He's  a  hypo- 
crite," said  one  ;  "he's  a  heretic,"  said  another.  The  most 
skilful  among  them  would  mount  upon  a  stool,  and  turning 
the  tavern  into  a  temple,  deliver,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
an  extemporaneous  discourse.  They  reported  words  that 
Tyndale  had  never  uttered,  and  actions  that  he  had  never 
committed. \  Rushing  upon  the  poor  tutor  (he  himself  in- 
forms us)  "  like  unclean  swine  that  follow  their  carnal  lusts,"  § 
they  tore  his  good  name  to  very  tatters,  and  shared  the  spoil 
among  them ;  while  the  audience,  excited  by  their  calum- 
nies and  heated  by  the  beer,  departed  overflowing  with  rage 
and  hatred  against  the  heretic  of  Sodbury. 

After  the  monks  came  the  dignitaries.  The  deans  and 
abbots,  Sir  John's  former  guests,  accused  Tyndale  to  the 
chancellor  of  the  diocese,  ||  and  the  storm  Avhich  had  begun 
in  the  tavern  burst  forth  in  the  episcopal  palace. 

The  titular  bishop  of  "Worcester  (an  appanage  of  the  Italian 
prelates)  was  Giulio  de'  Medici,  a  learned  man,  great  politi- 
cian, and  crafty  priest,  who  already  governed  the  popedom 

*  Neither  had  they  the  cheer  and  countenance  when  they  came,  as  before 
they  had.  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  116. 

f  C  ome  together  to  the  alehouse,  which  is  their  preaching  place.  Tynd 
Doctr.  Tr.  p.  394. 

£  They  add  too  of  their  own  heads  what  I  never  spake.    Ibid.  p.  395. 

§  Ibid.    Expositions,  p.  10. 

||  Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  395. 


TYNDALE  CITED  BEFORE  THE  CHANCELLOR.  185 

without  being  pope.*  "Wolsey,  who  administered  the  dio- 
cese for  his  absent  colleague,  had  appointed  Thomas  Parker 
chancellor,  a  man  devoted  to  the  Roman  church.  It  was 
to  him  the  churchmen  made  their  complaint.  A  judicial  in- 
quiry had  its  difficulties  ;  the  king's  companion-at-arms  was 
the  patron  of  the  pretended  heretic,  and  Sir  Anthony  Poyntz, 
Lady  Walsh's  brother,  was  sheriff  of  the  county.  The  chan- 
cellor was  therefore  content  to  convoke  a  general  conference 
of  the  clergy.  Tyndale  obeyed  the  summons,  but  foreseeing 
what  awaited  him,  he  cried  heartily  to  God,  as  he  pursued  his 
way  up  the  banks  of  the  Severn,  "  to  give  him  strength  to 
stand  fast  in  the  truth  of  his  word."-j- 

When  they  were  assembled,  the  abbots  and  deans,  and 
other  ecclesiastics  of  the  diocese,  with  haughty  heads  and 
threatening,  looks,  crowded  round  the  humble  but  unbending 
Tyndale.  When  his  turn  arrived,  he  stood  forward,  and  the 
chancellor  administered  him  a  severe  reprimand,  to  which  he 
made  a  calm  reply.  This  so  exasperated  the  chancellor, 
that,  giving  way  to  his  passion,  he  treated  Tyndale  as  if  he 
had  been  a  dog.J  "  Where  are  your  witnesses'?"  demanded 
the  latter.  "  Let  them  come  forward,  and  I  will  answer 
them."  Not  one  of  them  dared  support  the  charge — they 
looked  another  way.  The  chancellor  waited,  one  witness  at 
least  he  must  have,  but  he  could  not  get  that.  §  Annoyed 
at  this  desertion  of  the  priests,  the  representative  of  the 
Medici  became  more  equitable,  and  let  the  accusation  drop. 
Tyndale  quietly  returned  to  Sodbury,  blessing  God  who  had 
saved  him  from  the  cruel  hands  of  his  adversaries,  ||  and  en- 
tertaining nothing  but  the  tenderest  charity  towards  them. 
"  Take  away  my  goods,"  he  said  to  them  one  day,  "  take 
away  my  good  name !  yet  so  long  as  Christ  dwelleth  in  my 

*  Governava  il  papato  e  havia  piu  zente  a  la  sua  audienzia  che  il  papa. 
(He  governed  the  popedom,  and  had  more  people  at  his  audiences  than 
the  pope.)    Relazione  di  Marco  Foscari,  1526. 

t  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  116. 

*  He  threatened  me  grievously  and  reviled  me,  and  rated  me  as  though 
I  had  been  a  dog.    Tynd.  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  395. 

§  And  laid  to  my  charge  whereof  there  would  be  none  accuser  brought 
forth.  Ibid. 

||  Escaping  oat  of  their  hands.    Faxe,  Acts,  T.  p.  116. 
VOL.  Y.  9 


186  AN  OLD  DOCTOR  CONSOLES  HIM. 

heart,  so  long  shall  I  love  you  not  a  whit  the  less."*  Here  in- 
deed is  the  St  John  to  whom  Tyndale  has  been  compared. 

In  this  violent  warfare,  however,  he  could  not  fail  to  re- 
ceive some  heavy  blows  ;  and  where  could  he  find  consola- 
tion ?  Fryth  and  Bilney  were  far  from  him.  Tyndale  re- 
collected an  aged  doctor  who  lived  near  Sodbury,  and  who 
had  shown  him  great  affection.  He  went  to  see  him,  ami 
opened  his  heart  to  him.-{-  The  old  man  looked  at  him  for  a 
while  as  if  he  hesitated  to  disclose  some  great  mystery. 
"  Do  you  not  know,"  said  he,  lowering  his  voice,  "  that  the 
pope  is  very  Antichrist,  whom  the  Scripture  speaketh  of? 

But  beware  what  you  say That  knowledge  may  cost 

you  your  life."|  This  doctrine  of  Antichrist,  which  Luther 
was  at  that  moment  enunciating  so  boldly,  struck  Tyndale. 
Strengthened  by  it,  as  was  the  Saxon  reformer,  he  felt  fresh 
energy  in  his  heart,  and  the  aged  doctor  was  to  him  what 
the  aged  friar  had  been  to  Luther. 

When  the  priests  saw  that  their  plot  had  failed,  they  com- 
missioned a  celebrated  divine  to  undertake  his  conversion. 
The  reformer  replied  with  his  Greek  Testament  to  the 
schoolman's  arguments.  The  theologian  was  speechless :  at 
last  he  exclaimed !  "  Well  then  !  it  were  better  to  be  without 
God's  laws  than  the  'pope's."§  Tyndale,  who  did  not  expect 
so  plain  and  blasphemous  a  confession,  made  answer :  "  And 
I  defy  the  pope  and  all  his  laws !"  and  then,  as  if  unable  to 
keep  his  secret,  he  added :  "  If  God  spares  my  life,  I  will 
take  care  that  a  ploughboy  shall  know  more  of  the  Scriptures 
than  you  do."  || 

All  his  thoughts  were  now  directed  to  the  means  of  carry- 
ing out  his  plans ;  and,  desirous  of  avoiding  conversations 
that  might  compromise  them,  he  thenceforth  passed  the 
greater  portion  of  his  time  in  the  library,  ^j  He  prayed,  lie 

"  Tynd.  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  298. 

t  For  to  him  he  durst  be  bold  to  disclose  his  heart.  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p. 
117.  -t  Ibid.  §  Ibid. 

||  Cause  a  boy  that  driveth  the  plough  to  know  more  of  the  Scripture 
than  he  did.  Ibid. 

U  This  part  of  the  house  was  standing  in  1839,  but  has  since  been  pulled 
down.  Anderson,  Bible  Annals,  i.  p.  37.  We  cannot  but  unite  in  the 
wish  expressed  in  that  volume,  that  the  remainder  of  the  building,  now 
tenanted  by  a  fermer,  may  be  carefully  preserved. 


HIS  SECRET  BECOMES  KNOWN.  187 

read,  he  began  his  translation  of  the  Bible,  and  in  all  proba- 
bility communicated  portions  of  it  to  Sir  John  and  Lady 
Walsh. 

All  his  precautions  were  useless:  the  scholastic  divine 
had  betrayed  him,  and  the  priests  had  sworn  to  stop  him  in 
his  translation  of  the  Bible.  One  day  he  fell  in  with  a  troop 
of  monks  and  curates,  who  abused  him  in  the  grossest  maii- 
'  ner.  "  It's  the  favour  of  the  gentry  of  the  county  that 
makes  you  so  proud,"  said  they ;  "  but  notwithstanding 
your  patrons,  there  will  be  a  talk  about  you  before  long,  and 

in  a  pretty  fashion  too! You  shall  not  always  live  in  a 

manor-house !" — "  Banish  me  to  the  obscurest  corner  of 
England,"  replied  Tyndale  ;  "  provided  you  will  permit  me 
to  teach  children  and  preach  the  gospel,  and  give  me  ten 

pounds  a-year  for  my  support* I  shall  be  satisfied!" 

The  priests  left  him,  but  with  the  intention  of  preparing  him 
a  very  different  fate. 

Tyndale  indulged  in  his  pleasant  dreams  no  longer.  He 
saw  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  being  arrested,  condemned, 
and  interrupted  in  his  great  work.  He  must  seek  a  retreat 
where  he  can  discharge  in  peace  the  task  God  has  allotted 
him.  "  You  cannot  save  me  from  the  hands  of  the  priests," 
said  lie  to  Sir  John,  "  and  God  knows  to  what  troubles  you 
would  expose  yourself  by  keeping  me  in  your  family.  Per- 
mit me  to  leave  you."  Having  said  this,  he  gathered  up 
his  papers,  took  his  Testament,  pressed  the  nands  of  his 
benefactors,  kissed  the  children,  and  then  descending  the  hill, 
bade  farewell  to  the  smiling  banks  of  the  Severn,  and  de- 
parted alone — alone  with  his  faith.  What  shall  he  do  ? 
What  will  become  of  him  ?  Where  shall  he  go  ?  He  went 
forth  like  Abraham,  one  thing  alone  engrossing  his  mind  : — 
the  Scriptures  shall  be  translated  into  the  vulgar  tongue, 
and  he  will  deposit  the  oracles  of  God  in  the  midst  of  his 
countrymen. 

*  Binding  him  to  no  more  but  to  teach  children  and  to  preach.  .F<«0 
Acts,  v.  p.  1 17 


188  LUTHER'S  WORKS  IN  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Luther's  Works  in  England — Consultation  of  the  Bishops — The  Bull  ol , 
Leo  X.  published  in  England— Luther's  Books  burnt — Letter  of  Henry 
VIII. — He  undertakes  to  write  against  Luther— Cry  of  Alarm — Tra- 
dition and  Sacramental  ism—  Prudence  of  Sir  T.  More— The  Book 
presented  to  the  Pope — Defender  of  the  Faith— Exultation  of  the 
King. 

WHILST  a  plain  minister  was  commencing  the  Reformation 
in  a  tranquil  valley  in  the  west  of  England,  powerful  rein- 
forcements were  landing  on  the  shores  of  Kent.  The  writ- 
ings and  actions  of  Luther  excited  a  lively  sensation  in 
Great  Britain.  His  appearance  before  the  diet  of  Worms 
was  a  common  subject  of  conversation.  Ships  from  the 
harbours  of  the  Low  Countries  brought  his  books  to  Lon- 
don,* and  the  German  printers  had  made  answer  to  the 
nuncio  Aleander,  who  was  prohibiting  the  Lutheran  works 
m  the  empire :  "  Very  well !  we  shall  send  them  to  Eng- 
land ! "  One  might  almost  say  that  England  was  destined 
to  be  the  asylum  of  truth.  And  in  fact,  the  Theses  of  1517, 
the  Explanation  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  books  against 
Emser,  against  the  papacy  of  Rome,  against  the  bull  of  Anti- 
christ, the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  the  Appeal  to  the  Ger- 
man nobility,  and  above  all,  the  Babylonish  Captivity  of  the 
Church — all  crossed  the  sea,  were  translated,  and,  circulated 
throughout  the  kingdom. -j-  The  German  and  English  na- 
tions, having  a  common  origin  and  being  sufficiently  alike 
at  that  time  in  character  and  civilisation,  the  works  intended 
for  one  might  be  read  by  the  other  with  advantage.  The 
monk  in  his  cell,  the  country  gentleman  in  his  hall,  the 
doctor  in  his  college,  the  tradesman  in  his  shop,  and  even 
the  bishop  in  his  palace,  studied  these  extraordinary  writings. 

*  Burnet,  Hist,  of  the  Reformation,  (Lond.  1841, 8vo.)  i.  p.  21. 
+  Libros   Lutheranos  quorum  magnus  jam  numerus  pervenerat  ill 
manus  Anglorum.    Polyd.  Virg.  Angl.  Hist.  (Basil,  1570,  fol.)  p.  664. 


CONSULTATION  OF  THE  BISHOPS.  189 

The  laity  in  particular,  who  had  been  prepared  by  Wickliffe 
and  disgusted  by  the  avarice  and  disorderly  lives  of  the 
priests,  read  with  enthusiasm  the  eloquent  pages  of  the 
Saxon  monk.  They  strengthened  all  hearts. 

The  papacy  was  not  inactive  in  presence  of  all  these 
efforts.  The  times  of  Gregory  VII.  and  of  Innocent  III.,  it  is 
true,  were  past;  and  weakness  and  irresolution  had  suc- 
•ceeded  to  the  former  energy  and  activity  of  the  Roman  pon- 
tificate. The  spiritual  power  had  resigned  the  dominion  ol 
Europe  to  the  secular  powers,  and  it  was  doubtful  whether 
faith  in  the  papacy  could  be  found  in  the  papacy  itself.  Yc-t 
a  German  (Dr  Eck)  by  the  most  indefatigable  exertions  had 
extorted  a  bull  from  the  profane  Leo  X.,*  and  this  bull  had 
just  reached  England.  The  pope  himself  sent  it  to  Henry, 
calling  upon  him  to  extirpate  the  Lutheran  heresy. 7  The 
king  handed  it  to  Wolsey,  and  the  latter  transmitted  it  to 
the  bishops,  who,  after  reading  the  heretic's  books,  met  to- 
gether to  discuss  the  matter  :£  There  was  more  Romish  faith 
in  London  than  in  the  Vatican.  "This  false  friar,"  ex- 
claimed Wolsey,  "  attacks  submission  to  the  clergy — that 
fountain  of  all  virtues."  The  humanist  prelates  were  the 
most  annoyed ;  the  road  they  had  taken  ended  in  an  abyss, 
and  they  shrank  back  in  alarm.  Tonstall,  the  friend  ot 
Erasmus,  afterwards  bishop  of  London,  and  who  had  just 
returned  from  his  embassy  to  Germany  where  Luther  had 
been  painted  to  him  in  the  darkest  colours,  was  particularly 

violent :  "  This  monk  is  a  Proteus I  mean  an  alheist.§ 

If  you-allow  the  heresies  to  grow  up  which  he  is  scattering 
with  both  hands,  they  will  choke  the  faith  and  the  church 
will  perish.  ||  Had  we  not  enough  of  the  Wickliffites  ? — here 

are  new  legions  of  the  same  kind! To-day  Luther  calls 

for  the  abolition  of  the  mass;  to-morrow  he  will  ask  for  the 
abolition  of  Jesus  Christ.  ^[  He  rejects  everything,  and  puts 

*  See  above,  Book  VI.  chap.  iv. 

•f  Ab  hoc  regno  extirpandum  et  abolendum.    Cardinal.  Ebor.  COBI- 
missio.    Strype,  M.  I.  v.  p.  22. 
£  Habitoque  super  hac  re  diligent!  tractatu.    Ibid. 

§  Cum  illo  f'rotheo imo  Atheo.    Erasm.  Ep.  p.  1158. 

||  Totarruet  Ecclesia.   Ibid.  p.  1159. 

^1  Nisi  de  abolendo  Christo  scribere  destinavit.    Ibid.  p.  1160. 


190  PUBLICATION  OF  TliK  PAPAL  BULL. 

nothing  in  its  place.  What !  if  barbarians  plunder  our  fron- 
tiers, we  punish  them and  shall  we  bear  with  heretics 

who  plunder  our  altars? No!  by  the  mortal  agony  that 

Christ  endured,  I  entreat  you What  am  I  saying'?  the 

whole  church  conjures  you  to  combat  against  this  devouring 

dragon to  punish   this  hell-dog,  to   silence  his  sinister 

howlings,  and  to  drive  him  shamefully  back  into  his  den."* 
Thus  spoke  the  eloquent  Tonstall ;  nor  was  Wolsey  far  be- 
hind him.  The  only  attachment  at  all  respectable  in  *his 
man  was  that  which  he  entertained  for  the  church ;  it  may 
perhaps  be  called  respectable,  for  it  was  the  only  one  that  did 
not  exclusively  regard  himself.  On  the  14th  May  1521,  this 
English  pope,  in  imitation  of  the  Italian  pope,  issued  his  bull 
against  Luther. 

It  was  read  (probably  on  the  first  Sunday  in  June)  in  -all 
the  churches  during  high  mass,  when  the  congregation  was 
most  numerous. -j-  A  priest  exclaimed  :  "  For  every  book  of 
Martin  Luther's  found  in  your  possession  within  fifteen  days 
after  this  injunction,  you  will  incur  the  greater  excommuni- 
cation." Then  a  public  notary,  holding  the  pope's  bull  in  his 
hand,  with  a  description  of  Luther's  perverse  opinions,  pro- 
ceeded towards  the  principal  door  of  the  church  and  fastened 
up  the  document.  J  The  people  gathered  round  it ;  the  most 
competent  person  read  it  aloud,  while  the  rest  listened  ;  and 
the  following  are  some  of  the  sentences  which,  by  the  pope's 
order,  resounded  in  the  porches  of  all  the  cathedral,  convent- 
ual, collegiate,  and  parish  churches  of  every  county  in  Eng- 
land^ 

"  11.  Sins  are  not  pardoned  to  any,  unless,  the  priest  re- 
mitting them,  he  believe  they  are  remitted  to  him. 

"  13.  If  by  reason  of  some  impossibility,  the  contrite  be 
not  confessed,  or  the  priest  absolve  him,  not  in  earnest,  but 
in  jest ;  yet  if  he  believe  that  he  is  absolved,  he  is  most  truly 
absolved. 

*  Gladio  Spiritus  abactum  inantrum  suum  coges.   Erasm.  Ep.  p.  1160. 

T  Cum  major  convenerit  multitude.     Ibid. 

J  In  valvis  seu  locis  publicis  eccle&iae  •vestrse.    Ibid.  p.  24.    ' 

§  Strype,  M.  I.  p.  57,  (Oxf.  ed.)  or  Luther,  xvii.  p.  306. 


THE  CONDEMNED  OPINIONS SARCASMS  OF  THE  PEOPLE.     191 

"  11.  In  the  sacrament  of  pennnce  and  the  remission  of  a 
fault,  the  pope  or  bishop  doth  not  more  than  the  lowest 
priest ;  yea,  where  there  is  not  a  priest,  then  any  Christian 
will  do  ;  yea,  if  it  were  a  woman  or  a  child. 

"  26?  The  pope,  the  successor  of  Peter,  is  not  Christ's 
vicar. 

"  28.  It  is  not  at  all  in  the  hand  of  the  church  or  the  pope 
to  decree  articles  of  faith,  no,  nor  to  decree  the  laws  of  man- 
ners or  of  good  works." 

The  cardinal-legate,  accompanied  by  the  nuncio,  by  the 
ambassador  of  Charles  V.,  and  by  several  bishops,  proceeded 
in  great  pomp  to  St  Paul's,  where  the  bishop  of  Rochester 
preached,  and  Wolsey  burnt  Luther's  books.*  But  they 
were  hardly  reduced  to  ashes  before  sarcasms  and  jests  were 
heard  in  every  direction.  "  Fire  is  not  a  theological  argu- 
ment," said  one.  "  The  papists,  who  accuse  Martin  Luther 
of  slaying  and  murdering  Christians,"  added  another,  "  are 
like  the  pickpocket,  who  began  to  cry  stop  thief  as  soon  as 
he  saw  himself  in  danger  of  being  caught." — "  The  bishop 
of  Rochester,"  said  a  third,  "  concludes  that  because  Luther 
has  thrown  the  pope's  decretals  into  the  fire,  he  would  throw 
in  the  pope  himself We  may  hence  deduce  another  syl- 
logism quite  as  sound :  The  popes  have  burnt  the  New  Tes- 
tament, therefore,  if  they  could,  they  would  burn  Christ  him- 
self." f  These  jests  were  rapidly  circulated  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  It  was  not  enough  that  Luther's  writings  were 
in  England,  they  must  needs  be  known,  and  the  priests  took 
upon  themselves  to  advertise  them.  The  Reformation  was 
advancing,  and  Rome  herself  pushed  behind  the  car. 

The  cardinal  saw  that  something  more  was  required  than 
these  paper  autos-da-fe,  and  the  activity  he  displayed  may 
indicate  what  he  would  have  done  in  Europe  if  ever  he 
had  reached  the  pontifical  chair.  "  The  spirit  of  Satan  left 
him  no  repose,"  says  the  papist  Sanders.  \  Some  action  out 

*  See  above,  Book  IX.  chap.  x. 

t  They  would  have  burnt  Christ  himself.  Tynd.  Doctr.  Tr.,  Obedience, 
fcc.  (Park.Soc.)p.221. 
^  Satanic   piritu  act;i  •.    De  Sobism.  Angl.  p.  8. 


192  HENRY  WRITES  AGAINST  LUTHER. 

of  the  ordinary  course  is  needful,  thought  Wolsey.  Kinjr? 
have  hitherto  been  the  enemies  of  the  popes :  a  king  shnU 
now  undertake  their  defence.  Princes  are  not  very  anxious 

about  learning,  a  prince  shall  publish  a  book! "  Sire," 

said  he  to  the  king,  to  get  Henry  in  the  vein,  "  you  dught  to 
write  to  the  princes  of  Germany  on  the  subject  of  this  her- 
esy." He  did  so.  Writing  to  the  Archduke  Palatine,  he 
said :  "  This  fire,  which  has  been  kindled  by  Luther,  and 
fanned  by  the  arts  of  the  devil,  is  raging  everywhere.  If 
Luther  does  not  repent,  deliver  him  and  his  audacious  trea- 
tises to  the  flames.  I  offer  you  my  royal  co-operation,  and 
even,  if  necessary,  my  life."*  This  was  the  first  time  Henry 
showed  that  cruel  thirst  which  was  in  after-days  to  be 
quenched  in  the  blood  of  his  wives  and  friends. 

The  king  having  taken  the  first  step,  it  was  not  difficult 
for  Wolsey  to  induce  him  to  take  another.  To  defend  the 
honour  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  to  stand  forward  as  the  cham- 
pion of  the  church,  and  to  obtain  from  the  pope  a  title 
equivalent  to  that  of  Christianissimus,  most  Christian  king, 
were  more  than  sufficient  motives  to  induce  Henry  to  break 
a  lance  with  Luther.  "  I  will  combat  with  the  pen  this  Cer- 
berus, sprung  from  the  depths  of  hell,"-f-  said  he,  "  and  if  he 
refuses  to  retract,  the  fire  shall  consume  the  heretic  and  his 
heresies  together."  \ 

The  king  shut  himself  up  in  his  library :  all  the  scholastic 
tastes  with  which  his  youth  had  been  imbued  were  revived  ; 
he  worked  as  if  he  were  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  not 
king  of  England ;  with  the  pope's  permission  he  read  Lu- 
ther's writings ;  he  ransacked  Thomas  Aquinas ;  forged, 
with  infinite  labour,  the  arrows  with  which  he  hoped  to 
pierce  the  heretic ;  called  several  learned  men  to  his  aid,  and 
at  last  published  his  book.  His  first  words  were  a  cry  of 
alarm.  "  Beware  of  the  track  of  this  serpent,"  said  he  to  his 
Christian  readers ;  "  walk  on  tiptoe ;  fear  the  thickets  and 
caves  in  which  he  lies  concealed,  and  whence  he  will  dart  his 

*  Kapps  Urkunden,  ii.  p.  458. 

+  Velut  Cerberum  ex  inferis  producit  in  lucem.    Regis  ad  lectorem, 
Epist.  p.  94. 
J  Ut  errores  ejus  eumque  ipsum  ignis  exurat.    Ibid.  p.  95. 


TRADITION  AND  SACRAMENTALISM — PRUDENCE  OP  MORE.  193 

poison  on  you.  If  he  licks  you,  be  careful !  the  cunning 
viper  caresses  only  that  he  may  bite!"*  After  that  Henry 
sounded  a  charge :  "  Be  of  good  cheer !  Filled  with  the  same 
valour  that  you  would  display  against  Turks,  Saracens,  and 
other  infidels,  march  now  against  this  little  friar, — a  fellow 
apparently  weak,  but  more  formidable  through  the  spirit  that 
animates  him  than  all  infidels,  Saracens,  and  Turks  put  to- 
gether." f  Thus  did  Henry  VIII.,  the  Peter  the  Hermit  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  preach  a  crusade  against  Luther,  in 
order  to  save  the  papacy. 

He  had  skilfully  chosen  the  ground  on  which  he  gave  bat- 
tle :  sacramentalism  and  tradition  are  in  fact  the  two  essen- 
tial features  of  the  papal  religion ;  just  as  a  lively  faith  and 
Holy  Scripture  are  of  the  religion  of  the  gospel.  Henry  did 
a  service  to  the  Reformation,  by  pointing  out  the  principles 
it  would  mainly  have  to  combat ;  and  by  furnishing  Luther 
with  an  opportunity  of  establishing  the  authority  of  the 
Bible,  he  made  him  take  a  most  important  step  in  the  path 
of  reform.  "  If  a  teaching  is  opposed  to  Scripture,"  said  the 
Reformer,  "  whatever  be  its  origin  —  traditions,  custom, 
kings,  Thomists,  sophists,  Satan,  or  even  an  angel  from  hea- 
ven,— all  from  whom  it  proceeds  must  be  accursed.  Nothing 
can  exist  contrary  to  Scripture,  and  everything  must  exist 
for  it." 

Henry's  book  being  terminated  by  the  aid  of  the  bishop  ol 
Rochester,  the  king  showed  it  to  Sir  Thomas  More,  who 
begged  him  to  pronounce  less  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  pa- 
pal supremacy.  "  I  will  not  change  a  word,"  replied  the 
king,  full  of  servile  devotion  to  the  popedom.  "  Besides,  1 
have  my  reasons,"  and  he  whispered  them  in  More's  ear. 

Doctor  Clarke,  Ambassador  from  England  at  the  court  of 
Rome,  was  commissioned  to  present  the  pope  with  a  mag- 
nificently bound  copy  of  the  king's  work.  "  The  glory  of 
England,"  said  he,  "  is  to  be  in  the  foremost  rank  among 
the  nations  in  obedience  to  the  papacy ."J  Happily  Britain 

*  Qui  tantum  ideo  lambit  ut  mordeat.    Assertio  Sept.  Sacram. 
t  Sed  animo  Turcis  omnibus  Sarracenis  omnibus  usqnam  infidelibus 
nocentiorem  fraterculum.    Ibid.  p.  147. 
J  Fidde?  Life  of  Wolscy,  p.  249. 
9* 


194  DEFENDER  OP  THE  FAITH. 

was  erelong  to  know  a  glory  of  a  very  different  kind.  The 
ambassador  added,  that  his  master,  after  having  refuted 
Luther's  errors  with  the  pen,  was  ready  to  combat  his  ad- 
herents with  the  sword*  The  pope,  touched  with  this 
offer,  gave  him  his  foot,  and  then  his  cheek  to  kiss,  and 
said  to  him :  "  I  will  do  for  your  master's  book  as  much 
as  the  church  has  done  for  the  works  of  St  Jerome  and  St 
Augustine." 

The  enfeebled  papacy  had  neither  the  power  of  intelli- 
gence, nor  even  of  fanaticism.  It  still  maintained  its  pre- 
'  tensions  and  its  pomp,  but  it  resembled  the  corpses  of  the 
mighty  ones  of  the  earth  that  lie  in  state,  clad  in  their  most 
magnificent  robes :  splendour  above,  death  and  corruption 
below.  The  thunderbolts  of  a  Hildebrand  ceasing  to  pro- 
duce their  effect,  Rome  gratefully  accepted  the  defence  of 
laymen,  such  as  Henry  VIII.  and  Sir  Thomas  More,  with- 
out disdaining  their  judicial  sentences  and  their  scaffolds. 
"  We  must  honour  those  noble  champions,"  said  the  pope  to 
his  cardinals,  "who  show  themselves  prepared  to  cut  off 
with  the  sword  the  rotten  members  of  Jesus  Christy  What 
title  shall  we  give  to  the  virtuous  king  of  England  ?  " — Pro- 
tector of  the  Roman  church,  suggested  one ;  Apostolic  kin</, 
said  another;  and  finally,  but  not  without  some  opposition, 
Henry  VIII.  was  proclaimed  Defender  of  the  Faith.  At 
the  same  time  the  pope  promised  ten  years'  indulgence  to  all 
readers  of  the  king's  book.  This  was  a  lure  after  the 
fashion  of  the  middle  ages,  and  which  never  failed  in  its 
effect.  The  clergy  compared  its  author  to  the  wisest  of 
kings ;  and  the  book,  of  which  many  thousand  copies  were 
printed,  filled  the  Christian  world  (Cochla3us  tells  us)  with 
admiration  and  delight.  • 

Nothing  could  equal  Henry's  joy.  "His  majesty,"  said 
the  vicar  of  Croydon,  "  would  not  exchange  that  name  for 
all  London  and  twenty  miles  round." J  The  king's  fool, 
entering  the  room  just  as  his  master  had  received  the  bull, 
asked  him  the  cause  of  his  transports.  "  The  pope  has  just 

*  Totius  regni  sui  viribus  et  armis.    Rymer,  Fcedera,  vi.  p.  199. 

•f-  Putida  membra ferro  et  material!  gladio  abscindere.    Ibid. 

J  Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  596.  * 


HENRY'S  EXULTATION.  195 

flamed  me  Defender  of  the  Faith!" — "Ho.  ho!  good 
Harry,"  replied  the  fool,  "  let  yon  and  me  defend  one 

another;  but take  my  word  for  it let  the  faith  alone 

to  defend  itself"*  An  entire  modern  system  was  found  in 
those  words.  In  the  midst  of  the  general  intoxication,  the 
fool  was  the  only  sensible  person.  But  Henry  could  listen 
to  nothing.  Seated  on  an  elevated  throne,  with  the  cardinal 
at  his  right  hand,  he  caused  the  pope's  letter  to  be  read  in 
public.  The  trumpets  sounded:  Wolsey  said  mass;  the 
king  and  his  court  took  their  seats  around  a  sumptuous 
table,  and  the  heralds  at  arms  proclaimed:  Henricus  Dei 
gratia  Rex  Anglice  et  Francia?,  Defensor  Fidei  et  Dominus 
Hibcrnice  ! 

'Thus  was  the  king  of  England  more  than  ever  united  to 
the  pope:  whoever  brings  the  Holy  Scriptures  into  his 
kingdom  shall  there  encounter  that  material  sword,  ferrum 
et  materialem  gladium,  in  which  the  papacy  so  much  de- 
lighted. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Wolsey's  Machinations  lo  obtain  the  Tiara  —  He  gains  Charles  V.  —  Alli- 
ance between  Henry  and  Charles  —  Wolsey  offers  to  command  the 
Troops—  Treaty  of  Bruges—  Henry  believes  himself  King  of  France  — 
Victories  of  Francis  I  __  Death  of  Leo  X. 


R  thing  only  was  wanting  to  check  more  surely  the  pro- 
giess  of  the  gospel:  Wolsey's  accession  to  the  pontifical 
throne.  Consumed  by  the  desire  of  reaching  "  the  summit 
of  sacerdotal  unity,"  -j-  he  formed,  to  attain  this  end,  one  of 
the  most  perfidious  schemes  ambition  ever  engendered.  He 
thought  with  others  :  "  The  end  justifies  the  means." 

The  cardinal  could  only  attain  the  popedom  through  the 

*  Fuller,  book  v.  p.  168. 

t  Umtatis  sacerdotalis  fastigium  conscendere.    Sanders,  De  Schism. 
Aug.  8.      .. 


196  WOLSEY  DESIRES  THE  TIARA. 

emperor  or  the  king  of  France;  for  then,  as  now,  it  was  the 
secular  powers  that  really  elected  the  chief  of  catholicity. 
After  carefully  weighing  the  influence  of  these  two  princes, 
Wolsey  found  that  the  balance  inclined  to  the  side  of 
Charles,  and  his  choice  was  made.  A  close  intimacy 
of  long  standing  united  him  to  Francis  I.,  hut  that 
mattered  little;  he  must  betray  his  friend  to  gain  his 
friend's  rival. 

But  this  was  no  easy  matter.  Henry  was  dissatisfied 
with  Charles  the  Fifth.*  Wolsey  was  therefore  obliged  to 
employ  every  imaginable  delicacy  in  his  manoeuvres.  First 
he  sent  Sir  Richard  Wingfield  to  the  emperor;  then  he 
wrote  a  flattering  letter  in  Henry's  name  to  the  princess- 
regent  of  the  Low  Countries.  The  difficulty  was  to  get  the 
king  to  sign  it.  "  Have  the  goodness  to  put  your  name," 

said  Wolsey,  "  even  if  it  should  annoy  your  Highness 

You  know  very  well that  women  like  to  be  pleased."  •{• 

This  argument  prevailed  with  the  king,  who  still  possessed 
a  spirit  of  gallantry.  Lastly,  Wolsey  being  named  arbitra- 
tor between  Charles  and  Francis,  resolved  to  depart  for 
Calais,  apparently  to  hear  the  complaints  of  the  two  princes ; 
but  in  reality  to  betray  one  of  them.  Wolsey  felt  as  much 
pleasure  in  such  practices,  as  Francis  in  giving  battle. 

The  king  of  France  rejected  his  arbitration :  he  had  a 
sharp  eye,  and  his  mother  one  still  sharper.  "  Your  master 
loves  me  not,"  said  he  to  Charles's  ambassador,  "  and  I  do 
not  love  him  any  more,  and  am  determined  to  be  his 
enemy."  J  It  was  impossible  to  speak  more  plainly.  Far 
from  imitating  this  frankness,  the  politic  Charles  endeav- 
oured to  gain  Wolsey,  and  Wolsey,  who  was  eager  to  sell 
himself,  adroitly  hinted  at  what  price  he  might  be  bought. 
"  If  the  king  of  England  sides  with  me,"  Charles  informed 
the  cardinal,  "  you  shall  be  elected  pope  at  the  death  of  Leo 
X."§  Francis,  betrayed  by  Wolsey,  abandoned  by  the 

*  Hys  owne  affayris  doith  not  succede  with  th'  Emperour.  Stato  Pa- 
pers, vol.  i.  p.  10.  f  Ibid.  p.  12. 

J  He  was  utterly  determined  to  be  his  enemy.  Cotton  MSS.  Galba, 
B.  7,  p.  35. 

§  Ut  Wolseus  mortuo  Leone  decimo  fieret  summus  pontifex. 


ALLIANCE  BETWEEN  HENRY  AND  CHARLES.  197 

pope,  and  threatened  by  the  emperor,  determined  at  last  to 
accept  Henry's  mediation. 

But  Charles  was  now  thinking  of  very  different  matters. 
Instead  of  a  mediation,  he  demanded  of  the  king  of  England 
4000  of  his  famous  bowmen.  Henry  smiled  as  he  read  the 
despatch,  and  looking  at  Pace  his  secretary,  and  Marney 
the  captain  of  his  guards,  he  said :  "  Beati  qui  audiunt  et 
non  intelligunt  I "  thus  forbidding  them  to  understand,  and 
above  all  to  bruit  abroad  this  strange  request.  It  waa 
agreed  to  raise  the  number  of  archers  to  6000 ;  and  the 
cardinal,  having  the  tiara  continually  before  his  eyes,  de- 
parted to  perform  at  Calais  the  odious  comedy  of  a  hypo- 
critical arbitration.  Being  detained  at  Dover  by  contrary 
•winds,  the  mediator  took  advantage  of  this  delay  to  draw  up 
a  list  of  the  6000  archers  and  their  captains,  not  forgetting 
to  insert  in  it,  "  certain  obstinate  deer,"  as  Henry  had  said, 
"  that  must  of  necessity  be  hunted  down."*  These  were 
some  gentlemen  whom  the  king  desired  to  get  rid  of. 

While  the  ambassadors  of  the  king  of  France  were  re" 
ceived  at  Calais  on  the  4th  of  August  with  great  honours, 
by  the  lord  high  chamberlain  of  England,  the  cardinal 
signed  a  convention  with  Charles's  ministers  that  Henry 
should  withdraw  his  promise  of  the  Princess  Mary's  hand  to 
the  dauphin,  and  give  her  to  the  emperor.  At  the  same 
time  he  issued  orders  to  destroy  the  French  navy,  and  to 
invade  France.-}-  And,  finally,  he  procured,  by  way  of  com- 
pensating England  for  the  pension  of  16,000  pounds  hitherto 
received  from  the  court  of  St  Germains,  that  the  emperor 
should  pay  henceforward  the  annual  sum  of  40,000  marks. 
Without  ready  money  the  bargain  would  not  have  been  a 
good  one. 

This  was  not  all.  While  Wolsey  was  waiting  to  be 
elected  pope,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  becoming  a  soldier. 
A  commander  was  wanted  for  the  6000  archers  Henry  was 
sending  against  the  king  of  France ;  and  why  should  he  not 
be  the  cardinal  himself?  He  immediately  intrigued  to  get 

*  Sayyinge  that  certayne  hartes  were  so  toggidde  for  hym,  that  he 
must  neadys  hunte  them.    State  Papers,  i.  p.  26. 
t  Ibid.  i.  p.  23. 


198  THE  TREATY  OF  BRUGES. 

the  noblemen  set  aside  who  had  been  proposed  as  generals 
in  chief.  "  Shrewsbury,"  he  said  to  the  king,  "  is  wanted 
for  Scotland — Worcester  by  his  experience  is  worthy  that 

you  should  keep  him  near  you.  As  for  Dorset he 

will  be  very  dear."  Then  the  priest  added :  "  Sire,  if  during 
my  sojourn  on  the  other  side  of  the  sea,  you  have  good 

reason  to  send  your  archers I  hasten  to  inform  you  that 

whenever  the  emperor  takes  the  command  of  his  soldiers,  I 
am  ready,  although  an  ecclesiastic,*  to  put  myself  at  the 
head  of  yours."  What  devotedness!  Wolsey  would  cause 
his  cross  of  cardinal  a  latere  to  be  carried  before  him  (he 
said);  and  neither  Francis  nor  Bayard  would  be  able  to 
resist  him.  To  command  at  the  same  time  the  state,  the 
church,  and  the  army,  while  awaiting  the  tiara, — to  sur- 
round his  head  with  laurels :  such  was  this  man's  ambition. 
Unfortunately  for  him,  they  were  not  of  that  opinion  at 
court.  The  king  made  the  earl  of  Essex  commander-in- 
chief. 

As  Wolsey  could  not  be  general,  he  turned  to  diplomacy. 
He  hastened  to  Bruges ;  and  as  he  entered  at  the  emperor's 
side,  a  voice  was  heard  above  the  crowd,  exclaiming,  Salve, 
Hex  regis  tui  atque  regni  sui  !  -j- — a  sound  most  pleasing  to 
his  ears.  People  were  very  much  astonished  at  Bruges  by 
the  intimacy  existing  between  the  cardinal  and  the  emperor. 
"  There  is  some  mystery  beneath  it  all,"  they  said.:]:  Wolsey 
desired  to  place  the  crown  of  France  on  Henry's  head,  and 
the  tiara  on  his  own.  Such  was  the  mystery,  which  was 
well  worth  a  few  civilities  to  the  mighty  Charles  V.  The 
alliance  was  concluded,  and  the  contracting  parties  agreed 
"  to  avenge  the  insults  offered  to  the  throne  of  Jesus 
Christ,"  or  in  other  words,  to  the  popedom. 

Wolsey,  in  order  to  drag  Henry  into  the  intrigues  which 
were  to  procure  him  the  tiara,  had  reminded  him  that  he  was 
king  of  France,  and  the  suggestion  had  been  eagerly  caught 
at.  At  midnight,  on  the  7th  of  August,  the  king  dictated 

*  Though  I  be  a  spiritual  man.    State  Papers,  i.  p.  31. 
f  Hail,  both  king  of  thy  king  and  also  of  his  kingdom.    Tynd.  Expos. 
p.  314. 
J  There  was  a  certain  secret  whereof  all  men  knew  not.    Ibid.  p.  316. 


HENRY'S  DESIGNS  ON  FUANX-E.  199 

to  his  secretary  a  letter  for  Wolsey  containing  this  strange 
expression  :  Si  ibitis  parare  regi  locum  in  rcgno  ejus  hfredi~ 
tario,  Majestas  ejus  quiim  tempus  erit  opportunum,  scqwtvr* 
The  theologian  who  had  corrected  the  famous  latin  book  of 
the  king's  against  Luther  most  certainly  had  not  revised 
this  phrase.  According  to  Henry,  France  was  his  heredi- 
tary kingdom,  and  Wolsey  was  going  to  prepare  the  tlirouy 

for  him The  king  could  not  restrain  his  joy  at  the  mere 

idea,  and  already  he  surpassed  in  imagination  both  Edward 
III.  and  the  Black  Prince.  "  I  am  about  to  attain  a  glory 
superior  to  that  which  my  ancestors  have  gained  by  so  many 
wars  and  battles."  •{•  Wolsey  traced  out  for  him  the  road  to 
his  palace  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine :  "  Mezieres  is  about 
to  fall ;  afterwards  there  is  only  Rheims,  which  is  not  a 
strong  city  ;  and  thus  your  grace  will  very  easily  reach 
Paris."  \  Henry  followed  on  the  map  the  route  he  would 
have  to  take :  "  Affairs  are  going  on  well,"  wrote  the  cardi- 
nal, "  the  Lord  be  praised."  In  him  this  Christian  language 
was  a  mere  official  formality. 

Wolsey  was  mistaken :  things  were  going  on  badly.  On 
the  20th  of  October  1522,  Francis  I.  whom  so  much  perfidy 
had  been  unable  to  deceive, — Francis,  ambitious  and  turbu- 
lent, but  honest  in  this  matter  at  least,  and  confiding  in  the 
strength  of  his  arms,  had  suddenly  appeared  between  Cam- 
bray  and  Valenciennes.  The  emperor  fled  to  Flanders  in 
ularm,  and  Wolsey,  instead  of  putting  himself  at  the  head  of 
the  army,  had  shielded  himself  under  his  arbitrators  cloak. 
Writing  to  Henry,  who,  a  fortnight  before,  had  by  his  advice 
excited  Charles  to  attack  France,  he  said :  "  I  am  confident 
that  your  virtuous  mediation  will  greatly  increase  your  repu- 
tation and  honour  throughout  Christendom."  §  Francis  re- 
jected Wolsey's  offers,  but  the  object  of  the  latter  was  attained. 
The  negotiations  had  gained  time  for  Charles,  and  bad 
weather  soon  stopped  the  French  army.  Wolsey  returned 

*  If  you  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  the  king  in  his  hereditary  kingdom, 
his  majesty  will  follow  you  at  a  fitting  season.  State  Papers,  i.  36. 

t  Majora  assequi  quam  omnes  ipsius  progenitores  tot  bellis  et  prsjliis. 
State  Papers,  i.  45. 

J  Your  grace  shall  have  but  a  leyre  wey  to  Parys.    Ibid.  46. 

§  Cotton  MSS.  Calig.  D.  8,  p.  85. 


200  WOLSEY'S  PRACTICES. 

satisfied  to  London  about  the  middle  of  December.  It  was 
true  that  Henry's  triumphant  entry  into  Paris  became  very 
difficult ;  but  the  cardinal  was  sure  of  the  emperor's  favour, 
and  through  it  (he  imagined)  of  the  tiara.  Wolsey  had  done, 
therefore,  what  he  desired.  He  had  hardly  arrived  in  Eng- 
land when  there  came  news  which  raised  him  to  the  height 
of  happiness  :  Leo  X.  was  dead.  His  joy  surpassed  what 
Henry  had  felt  at  the  thought  of  his  hereditary  kingdom. 
Protected  by  the  powerful  Charles  V.,  to  whom  he  had  sacri- 
ficed everything,  the  English  cardinal  was  at  last  o.n  the 
point  of  receiving  that  pontifical  crown  which  would  permit 
him  to  crush  heresy,  and  which  was,  in  his  eyes,  the  just 
reward  of  so  many  infamous  transactions. 


CHAPTER  VII.    • 

The  Just  Men  of  Lincolnshire — Their  Assemblies  and  Teaching — Agnes 
and  Morden — Itinerant  Libraries— Polemical  Conversations— Sarcasm 
— Royal  Decree  and  Terror — Depositions  and  Condemnations — Four 
Martyrs — A  Conclave — Charles  consoles  Wolsey. 

WOLSEY  did  not  stay  until  he  was  pope,  before  persecuting 
the  disciples  of  th'e  word  of  God.  Desirous  of  carrying  out 
the  stipulations  of  the  convention  at  Bruges,  he  had  broken 
out  against  "  the  king's  subjects  who  disturbed  the  apostolic 
see."  Henry  had  to  vindicate  the  title  conferred  on  him  by 
the  pope  ;  the  cardinal  had.  to  gain  the  popedom  ;  and  both 
could  satisfy  their  desires  by  the  erection  of  a  few  scaffolds. 
In  the  county  of  Lincoln  on  the  shores  of  the  North  Sea, 
along  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Humber,  Trent,  and  Witham, 
and  on  the  slopes  of  the  smiling  hills,  dwelt  many  peaceful 
Christians — labourers,  artificers,  and  shepherds — who  spent 
their  days  in  toil,  in  keeping  their  flocks,  in  doing  good,  and 
in  reading  the  Bible.*  The  more  the  gospel-light  increased 
in  England,  the  greater  was  the  increase  in  the  number  of 
*  Being  simple  labourers  and  artificers.  Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  240, 


PERSLCJUTIONS  IN  LIXCOLNSIIIKE.  201 

these  children  of  peace.*  These  "  just  men,"  as  they  were 
called,  were  devoid  of  human  knowledge,  but  they  thirsted 
for  the  knowledge  of  God.  Thinking  they  were  alone  the 
true  disciples  of  the  Lord,  they  married  only*  among  them- 
selves.-}-  They  appeared  occasionally  at  church ;  but  instead 
of  repeating  their  prayers  like  the  rest,  they  sat,  said  their 
enemies,  "  mum  like  beasts."  J  On  Sundays  and  holidays, 
they  assembled  in  each  other's  houses,  and  sometimes  passed 
a  whole  jiight  in  reading  a  portion  of  Scripture.  If  there 
chanced  to  be  few  books  among  them,  one  of  the  brethren, 
who  had  learnt  by  heart  the  epistle  of  St  James,  the  begin- 
ning of  St  Luke's  gospel,  the  sermon  on  the  mount,  or  an 
epistle  of  St  Paul's,  would  recite  a  few  verses  in  a  loud  and 
calm  voice ;  then  all  would  piously  converse  about  the  holy 
truths  of  the  faith,  and  exhort  one  another  to  put  them  in 
practice.  But  if  any  person  joined  their  meetings,  who  did 
not  belong  to  their  body,  they  would  all  keep  silent.§  Speak- 
ing much  among  each  other,  they  were  speechless  before 
those  from  without :  fear  of  the  priests  and  of  the  fagot  made 
them  dumb.  There  was  no  family  rejoicing  without  the 
Scriptures.  At  the  marriage  of  a  daughter  of  the  aged  Dur- 
dant,  one  of  their  patriarchs,  the  wedding  party  met  secretly 
in  a  barn,  and  read  the  whole  of  one  of  St  Paul's  epistles. 
Marriages  are  rarely  celebrated  with  such  pastimes  as  this ! 
Although  they  were  dumb  before  enemies  or  suspected 
persons,  these  poor  people  did  not  keep  silence  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  humble ;  a  glowing  proselytism  characterized 
them  all.  "  Come  to  my  house,"  said  the  pious  Agnes  Ash- 
ford  to  James  Morden,  "  and  I  will  teach  you  some  verses 
of  Scripture."  Agnes  was  an  educated  woman  ;  she  could 
read ;  Morden  came,  and  the  poor  woman's  chamber  was 
transformed  into  a  school  of  theology.  Agnes  began :  "  Ye 
are  the  salt  of  the  earth,"  and  then  recited  the  following 


*  As  the  light  of  the  gospel  began  more  to  appear,  and  the  numbers  ol 
professors  to  grow.    Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  217. 

f  Did  contract  matrimony  only  with  themselves.    Ibid.  p.  223. 

J  Ibid.  p.  225. 

§  If  any  came  in  among  them  that  were  not  of  their  side,  then  tbej 
would  keep  all  silent.    Ibid.  p.  222. 

•    i2 


202  ITINERANT  LIBRARIES. 

verses.*  Five  times  did  Morden  return  to  Agnes  before  he 
knew  that  beautiful  discourse.  "  We  are  spread  like  salt 
over  the  various  parts  of  the  kingdom,"  said  this  Christian 
woman  to  the  neophyte,  "  in  order  that  we  may  check  the 
progress  of  superstition  by  our  doctrine  and  our  life.  But," 
added  she  in  alarm,  "  keep  this  secret  in  your  heart,  as  a 
man  would  keep  a  thief  in  prison."  -J- 

As  books  were  rare,  these  pious  Christians  had  established 
a  kind  of  itinerant  library,  and  one  John  Scrivener  was  con- 
tinually engaged  in  carrying  the  precious  volumes  from  one 
to  another.  |  But  at  times,  as  he  was  proceeding  along  the 
banks  of  the  river,  or  through  the  forest  glades,  he  observed 
that  he  was  followed.  He  would  quicken  his  pace  and  run 
into  some  barn,  where  the  friendly  peasants  promptly  hid  him 
beneath  the  straw,  or,  like  the  spies  of  Israel,  under  the  stalks 
of  flax.§  The  bloodhounds  arrived,  sought  and  found  noth- 
ing ;  and  more  than  once  those  who  so  generously  harboured 
these  evangelists  cruelly  expiated  the  crime  of  charity. 

The  disappointed  officers  had  scarcely  retired  from  the 
neighbourhood  when  these  friends  of  the  word  of  God  came 
out  of  their  hiding-place,  and  profited  by  the  moment  of 
liberty  to  assemble  the  brethren.  The  persecutions  they  suf- 
fered irritated  them  against  the  priests.  They  worshipped 
God,  read  and  sang  with  a  low  voice  ;  but  when  the  conver- 
sation became  general,  they  gave  free  course  to  their  indig- 
nation. "  Would  you  know  the  use  of  the  pope's  pardons  ?  " 
said  one  of  them ;  "  they  are  to  blind  the  eyes  and  empty 
the  purse." — "  True  pilgrimages,"  said  the  tailor  Geoffrey  of 
Uxbridge,  "  cpnsist  in  visiting  the  poor  and  sick — barefoot, 
if  so  it  please  you — for  these  are  the  little  ones  that  are 
God's  true  image." — "  Money  spent  in  pilgrimages,"  added 
a  third,  "serves  only  to  maintain  thieves  and  harlots."  || 
The  women  were  often  the  most  animated  in  the  controversy. 
"  What  need  is  there  to  go  to  the  feet"  said  Agnes  Ward, 
who  disbelieved  in  saints,  "  when  we  may  go  to  the  head  ?  "^[ 

*  Matth.  v.  13-16. 

t  Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  225. 

J  Carrying  about  books  from  one  to  another.     Ibid.  p.  224( 

§  Hiding  others  in  their  barns.    Ibid.  p.  243. 

!l  Ibid.  f  Ibid.  p.  229. 


THE  ROYAL  DECREE.  203 

"  The  clergy  of  the  good  old  times,"  said  the  wife  of  David 
Lewis,  "  used  to  lead  the  people  as  a  hen  leadeth  her  chick- 
ens;* but  now  if  our  priests  lead  their  flocks  anywhere,  it 
is  to  the  devil  assuredly." 

Erelong  there  was  a  general  panic  throughout  this  dis- 
trict. The  king's  confessor  John  Longland  was  bishop  of 
Lincoln.  This  fanatic  priest,  Wolsey's  creature,  took  advan- 
tage of  his  position  to  petition  Henry  for  a  severe  persecu- 
tion :  this  was  the  ordinary  use  in  England,  France,  and 
elsewhere,  of  the  confessors  of  princes.  It  was  unfortunate 
that  among  these  pious  disciples  of  the  word  men  of  a  cyni- 
cal turn  were  now  and  then  met  with,  whose  biting  sarcasms 
went  beyond  all  bounds.  Wolsey  and  Longland  knew  how 
to  employ  these  expressions  in  arousing  the  king's  anger. 
"  As  one  of -these  fellows,"  they  said,  "  was  busy  beating  out 
his  corn  in  his  barn,  a  man  chanced  to  pass  by.  '  Good 
morrow,  neighbour,'  (said  the  latter),  '  you  are  hard  at  it!' 
— '  Yes,'  replied  the  old  heretic,  thinking  of  transubstantia- 
tion,  '  I  am  thrashing  the  corn  out  of  which  the  priests  make 
God  Almighty.'" -|-  Henry  hesitated  no  longer. 

On  the  20th  October  1521,  nine  days  after  the  bull  on 
the  Defender  of  the  Faith  had  been  signed  at  Rome,  the 
king,  who  was  at  Windsor,  summoned  his  secretary,  and 
dictated  an  order  commanding  all  his  subjects  to  assist  the 
bishop  of  Lincoln  against  the  heretics.  "  You  will  obey  it 
at  the  peril  of  your  lives,"  added  he.  The  order  was  trans- 
mitted to  Longland,  and  the  bishop  immediately  issued  his 
^warrants,  and  his  officers  spread  terror  far  and  wide.  "When 
they  beheld  them,  these  peaceful  but  timid  Christians  were 
troubled.  Isabella  Bartlet,  hearing  them  approach  her  cot- 
tage, screamed  out  to  her  husband  :  "  You  are  a  lost  man  ! 
and  I  am  a  dead  woman  !"J  This  cry  was  re-echoed  from 
all  the  cottages  of  Lincolnshire.  The  bishop,  on  his  judg- 
ment-seat, skilfully  played  upon  these  poor  unhappy  beings 
to  make  them  accuse  one  another.  Alas !  according  to  the 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  ir.  p.  224. 

f  I  thresh  God  Almighty  out  of  the  straw.    Ibid.  p.  222. 
J  Alas !  now  are  you  an  undone  man,  and  I  but  a  dead  woman.     Ibid. 
p.  224. 


204  THE  BISHOP'S  TRIBUNAL. 

ancient  prophecy  :  "  the  brother  delivered  up  the  brother  tc 
death."  Robert  Bartlet  deposed  against  his  brother  Richard 
and  his  own  wife ;  Jane  Bernard  accused  her  own  father, 
and  Tredway  his  mother.  It  was  not  until  after  the  most 
cruel  anguish  that  these  poor  creatures  were  driven  to  such 
frightful  extremities  ;  but  the  bishop  and  death  terrified 
them :  a  small  number  alone  remained  firm.  As  regards 
heroism,  Wickliffe's  Reformation  brought  but  a  feeble  aid  to 
the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  century  ;  still  if  it  did  not 
furnish  many  heroes,  it  prepared  the  English  people  to  love 
God's  word  above  all  things.  Of  these  humble  people,  some 
were  condemned  to  do  penance  in  different  monasteries ; 
others  to  .carry  a  fagot  on  their  shoulders  thrice  round  the 
market-place,  and  then  to  stand  some  time  exposed  to  the 
jeers  of  the  populace  ;  others  were  fastened  to  a  post  while 
the  executioner  branded  them  on  the  cheek  with  a  red-hot 
iron.  They  also  had  their  martyrs.  Wickliffe's  revival  had 
never  been  without  them.  Four  of  these  brethren  were 
chosen  to  be  put  to  death,  and  among  them  the  pious  evan- 
gelical colporteur  Scrivener.  By  burning  him  to  ashes  the 
clergy  desired  to  make  sure  that  he  would  no  longer  circulate 
the  word  of  God ;  and  by  a  horrible  refinement  of  cruelty 
his  children  were  compelled  to  set  fire  to  the  pile  that  was 
to  consume  their  father.*  They  stretched  forth  their  trem- 
bling hands,  held  in  the  strong  grasp  of  the  executioners 

Poor  children! But  it  is  easier  to  burn  the  limbs  of 

Christians  than  to  quench  the  Spirit  of  Heaven.  These 
cruel  fires  could  not  destroy  among  the  Lincolnshire  peas- 
antry that  love  of  the  Bible,  which  in  all  ages  has  been 
England's  strength,  far  more  than  the  wisdom  of  her  sena- 
tors or  the  bravery  of  her  generals. 

Having  by  these  exploits  gained  indisputable  claims  to 
the  tiara,  Wolsey  turned  his  efforts  towards  Rome.  Leo 
X.,  as  we  have  seen,  was  just  dead  (1522).  The  cardinal 
sent  Pace  to  Rome,  instructing  him  to  "represent  to  the 
cardinals  that  by  choosing  a  partisan  of  Charles  or  Francis 
they  will  incur  the  enmity  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  princes, 
and  that  if  they  elect  some  feeble  Italian  priest,  the  apos(ol~ 
*  Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  245. 


WOL8EY  LOSES  THE  TIAR.^  205 

real  see  must  become  the  prey  of  the  strongest.     Luther's 
revolt  and  the  emperor's  ambition   endanger  the   papacy. 
There  is  only  one  means  of  preventing  the  threatening  dan- 
gers ......  It  is  to  choose  me  ......  Now,  go  and  exert  yourself."* 

The  conclave  opened  at  Rome  on  the  27th  December,  and 
Wolsey  was  proposed  ;  but  the  cardinals  were  not  generally 
favourable  to  his  election.  "  He  is  too  young,"  said  one  ; 
"  too  firm,"  said  another.  "  He  will  fix  the  scat  of  the 
papacy  in  England  and  not  in  Rome,"  urged  many.  He 
did  not  receive  twenty  votes.  "  The  cardinals,"  wrote  the 
English  ambassador,  "  snarled  and  quarrelled  with  each 
other  ;  and  their  bad  faith  and  hatred  increased  every  day." 
On  the  sixth  day,  only  one  dish  was  sent  them  ;  and  then  in 
despair  they  chose  Adrian,  who  had  been  tutor  to  the  em- 
peror, and  the  cry  was  raised  :  Papam  habemus  ! 

During  all  this  time  Wolsey  was  in  London,  consumed  by 
ambition,  and  counting  the  days  and  hours.     At  length  a 
despatch  from  Ghent,  dated  the  22d  January,  reached  him 
with  these  words  :  "  On  the  9th  of  January,  the  cardinal  of 
Tortosa  was  elected!"  ......  Wolsey  was   almost  distracted. 

To  gain  Charles,  he  had  sacrificed  the  alliance  of  Francis  I.  ; 
there  was  no  stratagem  that  he  had  not  employed,  and  yet 
Charles,  in  spite  of  his  engagements,  had  procured  the  elec- 
tion of  his  tutor!  ......  The  emperor  knew  what  must  be  the 

cardinal's  anger,  and  endeavoured  to  appease  it  :  "  The  new 
pope,"  he  wrote,  "  is  old  and  sickly  ;-{-  he  cannot  hold  his 
office  long  ......  Beg  the  cardinal  of  York  for  my  sake  to  take 

great  care  of  his  health" 

Charles  did  more  than  this  :  he  visited  London  in  person, 
under  pretence  of  his  betrothal  with  Mary  of  England,  and,  in 
the  treaty  then  drawn  up,  he  consented  to  the  insertion  of 
an  article  by  virtue  of  which  Henry  VIII.  and  the  mighty 
emperor  bound  themselves,  if  either  should  infringe  the 
treaty,  to  appear  before  Wolsey  and  to  submit  to  his  deci- 


*  The  sole  way  ......  was  to  chuse  him.    Herbert,  p.  110. 

+  The  new  elect  is  both  old,  sickly  .........  so  that  he  shall  not  have  the 

office  long.    Cotton  MSS.  Galba.  B.  vii.  p.  6. 


206  ^CHARACTER  OF  TYNDALE. 

eions.*  The  cardinal,  gratified  by  such  condescension,  grew 
calm  ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  was  soothed  with  the  most 
flattering  hopes.  "  Charles's  imbecile  preceptor,"  they  told 
him,  "has  arrived  at  the  Vatican,  attended  only  by  his 
female  cook ;  you  shall  soon  make  your  entrance  there  sur- 
rounded by  all  your  grandeur."  To  be  certain  of  his  game, 
Wolsey  made  secret  approaches  to  Francis  I.,  and  then  wait- 
ed for  the  death  of  the  pope.f 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Character  of  Tyndale — He  arrives  in  London — He  preaches — The  Cloth 
and  the  Ell — The  Bishop  of  London  gives  Audience  to  Tyndale — He  is 
dismissed — A  Christian  Merchant  of  London — Spirit  of  Love  in  the  Re- 
formation— Tyndale  in  Monmouth's  House— Fry  th  helps  him  to  tran- 
slate the  New  Testament — Importunities  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln — 
Persecution  in  London — Tyndale's  Resolution— He  departs — His  In- 
dignation against  the  Prelates — His  Hopes. 

WHILE  the  cardinal  was  intriguing  to  attain  his  selfish  ends, 
Tyndale  was  humbly  carrying  out  the  great  idea  of  giving 
the  Scriptures  of  God  to  England. 

After  bidding  a  sad  farewell  to  the  manor-house  of  Sod- 
bury,  the  learned  tutor  had  departed  for  London.  This 
occurred  about  'the  end  of  1522  or  the  beginning  of  1523. 
He  had  left  the  university — he  had  forsaken  the  house  of 
his  protector ;  his  wandering  career  was  about  to  commence, 
but  a  thick  veil  hid  from  him  all  its  sorrows.  Tyndale,  a 
man  simple  in  his  habits,  sober,  daring,  and  generous,  fear- 
ing neither  fatigue  nor  danger,  inflexible  in  his  duty,  anoint- 
ed with  the  Spirit  of  God,  overflowing  with  love  for  his 
brethren,  emancipated  from  human  traditions,  the  servant  ol 
God  alone,  and  loving  nought  but  Jesus  Christ,  imagina- 

*  Both  princes  appearing  before  the  cardinal  of  York  as  judge.    Art. 
si ii.    Herbert,  p.  118. 
f  Mortem  etiam  Adriani  expectat.    Sanders,  p.  8. 


TYNDALE  ARRIVES  IN  LONDON.  207 

live,  quick  at  repartee,  and  of  touching  eloquence — sucli  a 
man  might  have  shone  in  the  foremost  ranks ;  but  he  pre- 
ferred a  retired  life  in  some  poor  corner,  provided  he  could 
give  his  countrymen  the  Scriptures  of  God.  Where  could 
he  find  this  calm  retreat?  was  the  question  he  put  to  himself 
as  he  was  making  his  solitary  way  to  London.  The  me- 
tropolitan see  was  then  filled  by  Cuthbert  Tonstalr}  who  was 
more  of  a  statesman  and  a  scholar  than  of  a  churchman, 
"  the  first  of  English  men  in  Greek  and  Latin  literature," 
said  Erasmus.  This  eulogy  of  the  learned  Dutchman  oc- 
curred to  Tyndale's  memory.*  It  was  the  Greek  Testament 
of  Erasmus  that  led  me  to  Christ,  said  he  to  himself;  why 
should  not  the  house  of  Erasmus's  friend  offer  me  a  shelter 

that  I  may  translate  it At  last  he  reached  London,  and, 

a  stranger  in  that  crowded  city,  he  wandered  along  the 
streets,  a  prey  by  turns  to  hope  and  fear. 

Being  recommended  by  Sir  John  Walsh  to  Sir  Harry 
Guildford,  the  king's  comptroller,  and  by  him  to  several 
priests,  Tyndale  began  to  preach  almost  immediately,  espe- 
cially at  St  Dunstan's,  and  bore  into  the  heart  of  the  capital 
the  truth  which  had  been  banished  from  the  banks  of  the 
Severn.  The  word  of  God  was  with  him  the  basis  of  salva- 
tion, and  the  grace  of  God  its  essence.  His  inventive  mind 
presented  the  truths  he  proclaimed  in  a  striking  manner. 
He  said  on  one  occasion :  "  It  is  the  blood  of  Christ  that 
opens  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  not  thy  works.  I  am  wrong 

Yes,  if  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  by  thy  good  works  shalt 

thou  be  saved. — Yet,  understand  me  well, — not  by  those 
which  thou  hast  done,  but  by  those  which  Christ  has  done 
for  thee.  Christ  is  in  thee  and  thou  in  him,  knit  together 
inseparably.  Thou  canst  not  be  damned,  except  Christ  be 
damned  with  thee ;  neither  can  Christ  be  saved  except  thou 
be  saved  with  him."f  This  lucid  view  of  justification  by 
faith  places  Tyndale  among  the  reformers.  He  did  not  take 
his  seat  on  a  bishop's  throne,  or  wear  a  silken  cope ;  but  he 
mounted  the  scaffold,  and  was  clothed  with  a  garment  of 

*  As  I  thus  thought,  the  bishop  of  London  came  to  my  remembrance. 
Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  395. 
t  Ibid.  p.  79. 


208  TYNDALE  IS  RECOMMENDED  TO  TONSTALL. 

flames.     In  the  service  of  a  crucified  Saviour  this  latter  dis- 
tinction is  higher  than  the  former.* 

Yet  the  translation  was  his  chief  business ;  he  spoke  to 
his  acquaintances  about  it,  and  some  of  them  opposed  his 
project.  "  The  teachings  of  the  doctors,"  said  some  of  the 
city  tradesmen,  "  can  alone  make  us  understand  Scripture." 
"  That  is*to  say,"  replied  Tyndale,  "  I  must  measure  the 
yard  by  the  cloth*  Look  here,"  continued  he,  using  a 
practical  argument,  "  here  are  in  your  shop  twenty  pieces  of 

stuff  of  different  lengths Do  you  measure  the  yard  by 

these  pieces,  or  the  pie'ces  by  the  yard? The  universal 

standard  is  Scripture."    This  comparison  was  easily  fixed  in 
the  minds  of  the  petty  tradesmen  of  the  capital. 

Desirous  of  carrying  out  his  project,  Tyndale  aspired  to 
become  the  bishop's  chaplain ;  •{•  his  ambition  was  more 
modest  than  Wolsey's.  The  Hellenist  possessed  qualities 
which  could  not  fail  to  please  the  most  learned  of  English- 
men in  Greek  literature :  Tonstall  and  Tyndale  both  liked 
and  read  the  same  authors.  The  ex-tutor  determined  to 
plead  his  cause  through  the  elegant  and  harmonious  dis- 
ciple of  Radicus  and  Gorges:  ".Here  is  one  of  Isocrates' 
orations  that  I  have  translated  into  Latin,"  said  he  to  Sir 
Harry  Guildford  ;  "  I  should  be  pleased  to  become  chaplain 
to  his  lordship  the  bishop  of  London  ;  will  you  beg  him  .to 
accept  this  trifle.  Isocrates  ought  to  be  an  excellent  recom- 
mendation to  a  scholar ;  will  you  be  good  enough  to  add 
yours."  Guildford  spoke  to  the  bishop,  placed  the  transla- 
tion in  his  hands,  and  Tonstall  replied  with  that  benevolence 
which  he  showed  to  every  one.  "  Your  business  is  in  a 
fair  way,"  said  the  comptroller  to  Tyndale ;  "  write  a  letter 
to  his  lordship,  and  deliver  it  yourself."  J 

Tyndale's  hopes  now  began  to  be  realized.  He  wrote  his 
letter  ,in  the  best  style,  and  then,  commending  himself  to 
God,  proceeded  to  the  episcopal  palace.  He  fortunately 
knew  one  of  the  bishop's  officers,  William  Hebilthwayte,  to 

*  Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  153. 

•)•  He  laboured  to  be  his  chaplain.    Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  617. 
%  He  willed  me  to  write  an  epistle  to  my  lord,  and  to  go  to  him  myself, 
(bid. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  BISHOP  OF  LONDON.  209 

whom  he  gave  the  letter.  Hebilthwayte  carried  it  to  his 
lordship,  while  Tyndale  waited.  His  heart  throbbed  with 
anxiety :  shall  he  find  at  last  the  long  hoped  for  asylum  ? 
The  bishop's  answer  might  decide  the  whole  course  of  his 
life.  If  the  door  is  opened, — if  the  translator  of  the  Scrip- 
tures should  be  settled  in  the  episcopal  palace,  why  should 
not  his  London  patron  receive  the  truth  like  his  patron  at 
Sodbury  ?  and,  in  that  case,  what  a  future  for  the  church 

and  for  the  kingdom! The  Reformation  was  knocking  at 

the  door  of  the  hierarchy  of  England,  and  the  latter  was 
about  to  utter  its  yea  or  its  nay.  After  a  few  moments' 
absence  Hebilthwayte  returned :  "  I  am  going  to  conduct 
you  to  his  lordship."  Tyndale  fancied  himself  that  he  had 
attained  his  wishes. 

The  bishop  was  too  kind-hearted  to  refuse  an  audience  to 
a  man  who  called  upon  him  with  the  triple  recommendation 
of  Isocrates,  of  the  comptroller,  and  of  the  king's  old  com- 
panion in  arms.  He  received  Tyndale  with  kindness,  a  little 
tempered  however  with  coldness,  as  if  he  were  a  man  whose 
acquaintanceship  might  compromise  him.  Tyndale  having 
made  known  his  wishes,  the  bishop  hastened  to  reply: 
"  Alas  !  my  house  is  full ;  I  have  now  more  people  than  I 
can  employ."*  Tyndale  was  discomfited  by  this  answer. 
The  bishop  of  London  was  a  learned  man,  but  wanting  in 
courage  and  consistency;  he  gave  his  right  hand  to  the 
friends  of  letters  and  of  the  gospel,  and  his  left  hand  to  the 
friends  of  the  priests ;  and  then  endeavoured  to  walk  with 
both.  But  when  he  had  to  choose  between  the  two  parties, 
clerical  interests  prevailed.  There  was  no  lack  of  bishops, 
priests,  and  laymen  about  him,  who  intimidated  him  by  their 
clamours.  After  taking  a  few  steps  forward,  he  suddenly 
recoiled.  Still  Tyndale  ventured  to  hazard  a  word  ;  but  the 
prelate  was  cold  as  before.  The  humanists,  who  laughed  at 
the  ignorance  of  the  monks,  hesitated  to  touch  an  ecclesias- 
tical system  which  lavished  on  them  such  rich  sinecures. 
They  accepted  the  new  ideas  in  theory,  but  not  in  practice. 
They  were  very  willing  to  .discuss  them  at  table,  but  not  to 

*  My  lord  answered  me,  his  house  was  full.  Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p. 
385. 

VOL.  V.  1 0 


210  THE  LONDON  MERCHANT. 

proclaim  them  from  the  pulpit ;  and  covering  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment with  applause,  they  tore  it  in  pieces  when  rendered 
into  the  vulgar  tongue.  "  If  you  will  look  well  about  Lon- 
don," said  Tonstall  coldly  to  the  poor  priest,  "  you  will  not 
fail  to  meet  with  some  suitable  employment."  This  was  all 
Tyndale  could  obtain.  Hebilthwayte  waited  on  him  to  the 
door,  and  the  Hellenist  departed  sad  and  desponding. 

His  expectations  were  disappointed.  Driven  from  the 
banks  of  the  Severn,  without  a  home  in  the  capital,  what 
would  become  of  the  translation  of  the  Scriptures  ?  "  Alas ! " 

he  said ;  "  I  was  deceived *  there  is  nothing  to  be  looked 

for  from  the  bishops Christ  was  smitten  on  the  cheek 

before  the  bishop,  Paul  was  buffeted  before  the  bishop  -j- 

and  a  bishop  has  just  turned  me  away."  His  dejection  did 
not  last  long :  there  was  an  elastic  principle  in  his  soul.  "  I 
hunger  for  the  word  of  God,"  said  he,  "  I  will  translate  it, 
whatever  they  may  say  or  do.  God  will  not  suffer  me  to 
perish.  He  never  made  a  mouth  but  he  made  food  for  it, 
nor  a  body,  but  he  made  raiment  also."  ^ 

This  trustfulness  was  not  misplaced.  It  was  the  privilege 
of  a  layman  to  give  what  the  bishop  refused.  Among  Tyn- 
dale's  hearers  at  St  Dunstan's  was  a  rich  merchant  named 
Humphrey  Monmouth,  who  had  visited  Rome,  and  to  whom 
(as  well  as  to  his  companions)  the  pope  had  been  so  kind 
as  to  give  certain  Roman  curiosities,  such  as  indulgences, 
a  culpd  et  a  poend.  Ships  laden  with  his  manufac- 
tures every  year  quitted  London  for  foreign  countries.  He 
had  formerly  attended  Colet's  preaching  at  St  Paul's,  and 
from  the  year  1515  he  had  known  the  word  of  God.§  He 
was  one  of  the  gentlest  and  most  obliging  men  in  England ; 
he  kept  open  house  for  the  friends  of  learning  and  of  the 
gospel,  and  his  library  contained  the  newest  publications. 
In  putting  on  Jesus  Christ,  Monmouth  had  particularly 
striven  to  put  on  his  character ;  he  helped  generously  with 

*  I  was  beguiled.    Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  395. 
+  Expositions,  p.  59. 
£  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works,  ii.  p.  349. 

§  The  rich  man  began  to  be  a  Scripture  man.  Latimer's  Sermons, 
p.  440  (Park.  Soe.) 


A  RICH  AND  A  POOR  MAN.  •_'  1  1 

his  purse  both  priests  and  men  of  letters;  lie  gave  forty 
pounds  sterling  to  the  chaplain  of  the  bishop  of  London,  the 
'same  to  the  king's,  to  the  provincial  of  the  Augustines,  and 
to  others  besides.  Latimer,  who  sometimes  dined  with  him, 
once  related  in  the  pulpit  an  anecdote  characteristic  of  the 
friends  of  the  Reformation  in  England.  Among  the  regular 
guests  at  Monmouth's  table  was  one  of  his  poorest  neigh- 
bours, a  zealous  Romanist,  to  whom  hjs  generous  host  often 
used  to  lend  money.  One  day  when -the  pious  merchant 
was  extolling  Scripture  and  blaming  popery,  his  neighbour 
turned  pale,  rose  from  the  table,  and  left  the  room.  "  I  will 
never  set  foot  in  his  house  again,"  he  said  to  his  friends. 
"  and  I  will  never  borrow  another  shilling  of  him."*  He 
next  went  to  the  bishop  and  laid  an  informatipn  against  his 
benefactor.  Monmouth  forgave  him,  and  tried  to  bring  him 
back ;  but  the  neighbour  constantly  turned  out  of  his  .way. 
Once,  however,  they  met  in  a  street  so  narrow  that  he  could 
not  escape.  "  I  will  pass  by  without  looking  at  him,"  said  the 
Romanist  turning  away  his  head.  But  Monmouth  went 
straight  to  him,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said  affection- 
ately :  "  Neighbour,  what  wrong  have  I  done  you  ?"  and  he 
continued  to  speak  to  him  with  so  much  love,  that  the  poor 
man  fell  on  his  knees,  burst  into  tears,  and  begged  his  for- 
giveness.-{-  Such  was  the  spirit  which,  at  the  very  outset, 
animated  the  work  of  the  Reformation  in  England :  it  was 
acceptable  to  God,  and  found  favour  with  the  people. 

Monmouth  being  edified  by  Tyndale's  sermons,  inquired 
into  his  means  of  living.  "  I  have  none,"  f  replied  he,  "  but 
I  hope  to  enter  into  the  bisnop's  service."  This  was  before 
his  visit  to  Tonstall.  When  Tyndale  saw  all  his  hopes  frus- 
trated, he  went  to  Monmouth  and  told  him  everything. 
"  Come  and  live  with  me,"  said  the  wealthy  merchant,  "  and 
there  labour."  God  did  to  Tyndale  according  to  his  faith. 
Simple,  frugal,  devoted  to  work,  he  studied  night  and  day  ;§ 
and  wishing  to  guard  his  mind  against  "  being  overcharged 

with  surfeiting,"  he  refused  the  delicacies  of  his  patron's 

• 

*  Latimer's  Works,  i.  p.  441.  He  would  borrow  no  [more]  money  of 
him.  t  Ibid.  J  Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  617. 

§  Strype,  Records,  i.  p.  664. 


212  FRYTH  JOINS  TYNDALE. 

table,  and  would  take  nothing  but  sodden  meat  and  small 
beer.*  It  would  even  seem  that  he  carried  simplicity  in 
dress  almost  too  far.f  By  his  conversation  and  his  works, 
he  shed  over  the  house  of  his  patron  the  mild  light  of  the 
Christian  virtues,  and  Monmouth  loved  him  more  and  more 
every  day. 

Tyndale  was  advancing  in  his  work  when  John  Fryth,  the 
mathematician  of  King's  College,  Cambridge,  arrived  in  Lon- 
don. It  is  probable  that  Tyndale,  feeling  the  want  of  an 
associate,  had  invited  him.  United  like  Luther  and  Me- 
lancthon,  the  two  friends  held  many  precious  conversations 
together.  "  I  will  consecrate  my  life  wholly  to  the  church 
of  Jesus  Christ,"  said  Fryth.:j:  "  To  be  a  good  man,  you 
must  give  great  part  of  yourself  to  your  parents,  a  greater 
part  to  your  country ;  but  the  greatest  of  all  to  the  church 
of  the  Lord."  "  The  people  should  know  the  word  of  God,"  § 
they  said  both.  "  The  interpretation  of  the  gospel,  without 
the  intervention  of  councils  or  popes,  is  sufficient  to  create  a 
saving  faith  in  the  heart."  They  shut  themselves  up  in  the 
little  room  in  Monmouth's  house,  and  translated  chapter 
after  chapter  from  the  Greek  into  plain  English.  The  bishop 
of  London  knew  nothing  of  the  work  going  on  a  few  yards 
from  him,  and  everything  was  succeeding  to  Tyndale's  wishes 
when  it  was  interrupted  by  an  unforeseen  circumstance. 

Longland,  the  persecutor  of  the  Lincolnshire  Christians, 
did  not  confine  his  activity  within  the  limits  of  his  diocese ; 
he  besieged  the  king,  the  cardinal,  and  the  queen  with  his 
cruel  importunities,  using  Wolsey's  influence  with  Henry, 
and  Henry's  with  Wolsey.  "  H\s  majesty,"  he  wrote  to  the 
cardinal,  "  shows  in  this"  holy  dispute  as  much  goodness  as 

zeal yet,  be  pleased  to  urge  him  to  overthrow  God's 

enemies."  And  then  turning  to  the  king,  the  confessor  said, 
to  spur  him  on :  "  The  cardinal  is  about  to  fulminate  the 
greater  excommunication  against  all  who  possess  Luther's 

"  Strype,  Records,  i.  p.  6G4.  He  would  eat  sodden  meat  and 
drink  but  small  single  beer. 

•J-  He  was  never  seen  in  that  house  to  wear  linen  about  him*.    Ibid. 

J  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works,  ii\.  p.  73,  74. 

§  That  the  poor  people  might  also  read  and  see  the  simple  plain  word 
of  God.  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  118. 


LONGLAND'S  IMPORTUNITIES.  213 

works  or  hold  his  opinions,  and  to  make  the  booksellers  sign 
a  bond  before  the  magistrates,  not  to  sell  heretical  books." 
"  Wonderful ! "  replied  Henry  with  a  sneer,  "  they  will  fear 
the  magisterial  bond,  I  think,  more  than  the  clerical  excom- 
munication." And  yet  the  consequences  of  the  "  clerical" 
excommunication  were  to  be  very  positive  ;  whosoever  per- 
severed in  his  offence  was  to  be  pursued  by  the  law  ad  ignem, 
even  to  the  fire.*  At  last  the  confessor  applied  to  the  queen : 
"  We  cannot  be  sure  of  restraining  the  press,"  he  said  to 
her.  "  These  wretched  books  come  to  us  from  Germany, 
France,  and  the  Low  Countries ;  and  are  even  printed  in 
the  very  midst  of  us.  Madam,  we  must  train  and  prepare 
skilful  men,  such  as  are  able  to  discuss  the  controverted 
points,  so  that  the  laity,  struck  on  the  one  hand  by  well  de- 
veloped arguments,  and  frightened  by  the  fear  of  punishment 
on  the  other,  may  be  kept  in  obedience."  -}-  In  the  bishop's 
system,  "  fire  "  was  to  be  the  complement  of  Roman  learn- 
ing. The  essential  idea  of  Jesuitism  is  already  visible  in 
this  conception  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  confessor.  That  sys- 
tem is  the  natural  development  of  Romanism. 

Tonstall,  urged  forward  by  Longland,  and  desirous  of 
showing  himself  as  holy  a  churchman  as  he  had  once  been  a 
skilful  statesman  and  elegant  scholar — Tonstall,  the  friend  of 
Erasmus,  began  to  persecute.  He  would  have  feared  to  shed 
blood,  like  Longland ;  but  there  are  measures  which  torture 
the  mind  and  not  the  body,  and  which  the  most  moderate 
men  fear  not  to  make  use  of.  John  Higgins,  Henry  Cham- 
bers, Thomas  Eaglestone,  a  priest  named  Edmund  Spilman, 
and  some  other  Christians  in  London,  used  to  meet  and  read 
portions  of  the  Bible  in  English,  and  even  asserted  publicly 
that  "  Luther  had  more  learning  in  his  little  finger  than  all 
the  doctors  in  England."  J  The  bishop  ordered  these  rebels  to 
be  arrested  :  he  flattered  and  alarmed  them,  threatening  them 
with  a  cruel  death  (which  he  would  hardly  have  inflicted  on 
them),  and  by  these  skilful  practices  reduced  them  to  silence. 

"  Anderson's  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  42. 

t  Ibid.  p.  42,  43.    Herbert  says  (p.  147)  "  to  suspend  the  laity  betwix* 
fear  and  controversies." 
J  Fose,  Acts,  v.  p.  17!'. 


214  TYNDALE  RESOLVES  TO  LEAVE  ENGLAND. 

Tyndale,  who  witnessed  this  persecution,  feared  lest  the 
stake  should  interrupt  his  labour.  If  those  who  read  a  few 
fragments  of  Scripture  are  threatened  with  death,  what  will 
he  not  have  to  endure  who  is  translating  the  whole  ?  His 
friends  entreated  him  to  withdraw  from  the  bishop's  pursuit 
"  Alas ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  there  then  no  place  where  I  can 

translate  the  Bible? It  is  not  the  bishop's  house  alone 

that  is  closed  against  me,  but  all  England."  * 

He  then  made  a  great  sacrifice.  Since  there  is  no  place 
in  his  own  country  where  he  can  translate  the  word  of  God, 
he  will  go  and  seek  one  among  the  nations  of  the  continent. 
It  is  true  the  people  are  unknown  to  him ;  he  is  without  re- 
sources ;  perhaps  persecution  and  even  death  await  him 

there It  matters  not !  some  time  must  elapse  before  it  is 

known  what  he  is  doing,  and  perhaps  he  will  have  been 
able  to  translate  the  Bible.  He  turned  his  eyes  towards 
Germany.  "  God  does  not  destine  us  to  a  quiet  life  here 
below,"  he  said.  f-  "  If  he  calls  us  to  peace  on  the  part  of 
Jesus  Christ,  he  calls  us  to  war  on  the  part  of  the  world." 

There  lay  at  that  moment  in  the  river  Thames  a  vessel 
loading  for  Hamburg.  Monmouth  gave  Tyndale  ten  pounds 
sterling  for  his  voyage,  and  other  friends  contributed  a  like 
amount.  He  left  the  half  of  this  sum  in  the  hands  of  his 
benefactor  to  provide  for  his  future  wants,  and  prepared  to 
quit  London,  where  he  had  spent  a  year.  Rejected  by  his 
fellow-countrymen,  persecuted  by  the  clergy,  and  carrying 
with  him  only  his  New  Testament  and  his  ten  pounds,  he 
went  on  board  the  ship,  shaking  off  the  dust  of  his  feet,  ac- 
cording to  his  Master's  precept,  and  that  dust  fell  back  on 
the  priests  of  England.  He  was  indignant  (says  the  chroni- 
cler) against  those  coarse  monks,  covetous  priests,  and  pom- 
pous prelates,  J  who  were  waging  an  impious  war  against 
God.  "  What  a  trade  is  that  of  the  priests ! "  he  said  in  one 
of  his  later  writings ;  "  they  want  money  for  everything : 

*  But  also  that  there  was  no  place  to  do  it  in  all  England.  Tynd. 
Doctr.  Tr.  p.  396. 

f  We  be  not  called  to  a  soft  living.    Ibid.  p.  249. 

J  Marking  especially  the  demeanour  of  the  preachers,  and  beholding 
the  pomp  of  the  prelates.  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  118. 


HIS  INDIGNATION  AGAINST  THE  PRELATES.  215 

money  for  baptism,  money  for  churehings,  for  weddings,  for 
buryings,  for  images,  brotherhoods,  penances,  soul-masses, 
bells,  organs,  chalices,  copes,  surplices,  ewers,  censers,  and 
all  manner  of  ornaments.  Poor  sheep !  The  parson  shears, 
the  vicar  shaves,  the  parish  priest  polls,  the  friar  scrapes, 

the  indulgence  seller  pares all  that  you  want  is  a  butcher 

to  flay  you  and  take  away  your  skin.  *  He  will  not  leave 
you  long.  Why  are  your  prelates  dressed  in  red  ?  Because 
they  are  ready  to  shed  the  blood  of  whomsoever  seeketh  the 
word  of  God.f  Scourge  of  states,  devastators  of  kingdoms, 
the  priests  take  away  not  only  Holy  Scripture,  but  also  pro- 
sperity and  peace  ;  but  of  their  councils  is  no  layman :  reign- 
ing over  all,  they  obey  nobody ;  and  making  all  concur  to 
their  own  greatness,  they  conspire  against  every  kingdom."  J 

No  kingdom  was  to  be  more  familiar  than  England  with 
the  conspiracies  of  the  papacy  of  which  Tyndale  spoke ;  and 
yet  none  was  to  free  itself  more  irrevocably  from  the  power 
of  Rome. 

Yet  Tyndale  was  leaving  the  shores  of  his  native  land, 
and  as  he  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  new  countries,  hope 
revived  in  his  heart.  He  was  going  to  be  free,  and  he  would 
use  his  liberty  to  deliver  the  word  of  God,  so  long  held  cap- 
tive. "  The  priests,"  he  said  one  day,  "  when  they  had  slain 
Christ,  set  poleaxes  to  keep  him  in  his  sepulchre,  that  he 
should  not  rise  again ;  even  so  have  our  priests  buried  the 
Testament  of  God,  and  all  their  study  is  to  keep  it  down,  that 
it  rise  not  again.  §  But  the  hour  of  the  Lord  is  come,  and 
nothing  can  hinder  the  word  of  God,  as  nothing  could  hinder 
Jesus  Christ  of  old  from  issuing  from  the  tomb."  Indeed 
that  poor  man,  then  sailing  towards  Germany,  was  to  send 
back,  even  from  the  banks  of  the  Elbe,  the  eternal  gospel  to 
his  countrymen. 

•  Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  238.    Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man. 
f  Ibid.  p.  251.  J  Ibid.  p.  191. 

§  Ibid.  p.  251. 


216  B1LNEY  AT  CAMBRIDGE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Bilney  at  Cambridge — Conversions — The  University  Cross-bearer— A 
Leicestershire  Farmer — A  Party  of  Students — Superstitious  Practices 
— An  obstinate  Papist — The  Sophists — Latimer  attacks  Stafford — Bil- 
ney's  Resolution — Latimer  hears  Bilney's  Confession — Confessor  con- 
verted— New  Life  in  Latimer — Bilhey  preaches  Grace— Nature  of  the 
Ministry — Latimer's  Character  and  Teaching — Works  of  Charity — 
Three  Classes  of  Adversaries — Clark  and  Dalaber. 

THIS  ship  did  not  bear  away  all  the  hopes  of  England.  A 
society  of  Christians  had  been  formed  at  Cambridge,  of  which 
Bilney  was  the  centre.  He  now  knew  no  other  canon  law 
than  Scripture,  and  had  found  a  new  master,  "  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit of  Christ,"  says  an  historian.  Although  he  was  naturally 
timid,  and  often  suffered  from  the  exhaustion  brought  on  by 
his  fasts  and  vigils,  there  was  in  his  language  a  life,  liberty, 
and  strength,  strikingly  in  contrast  with  his  sickly  appear- 
ance. He  desired  to  draw  to  the  knowledge  of  God,*  all  who 
came  nigh  him ;  and  by  degrees,  the  rays  of  the  gospel  sun, 
which  was  then  rising  in  the  firmament  of  Christendom, 
pierced  the  ancient  windows  of  the  colleges,  and  illuminated 
the  solitary  chambers  of  certain  of  the  masters  and  fellows. 
Master  Arthur,  Master  Thistle  of  Pembroke  Hall,  and  Mas- 
ter Stafford,  were  among  the  first  to  join  Bilney.  George 
Stafford,  professor  of  divinity,  was  a  man  of  deep  learning 
and  holy  life,  clear  and  precise  in  his  teaching.  He  was  ad- 
mired by  every  one  in  Cambridge,  so  that  his  conversion,  like 
that  of  his  friends,  spread  alarm  among  the  partisans  of  the 
schoolmen.  But  a  conversion  still  more  striking  than  this 
was  destined  to  give  the  English  Reformation  a  champion 
more  illustrious  than  either  Stafford  or  Bilney. 

There  was  in  Cambridge,  at  that  time,  a  priest  notorious 
for  his  ardent  fanaticism.  In  the  processions,  amidst  the 
pomp,  prayers,  and  chanting  of  the  train,  none  could  fail  to 

*  So  was  in  his  heart  an  incredible  desire  to  allure  many.   Foxe,  Acts. 
\   p.  620. 


A  LEICESTERSHIRE  FARMER.  217 

notice  a  master-of-arts,  about  thirty  years  of  age,  who,  with 
erect  head,  carried  proudly  the  university  cross.  Hugh  La- 
timer,  for  such  was  his  name,  combined  a  biting  humour 
with  an  impetuous  disposition  and  indefatigable  zeal,  and 
was  very  quick  in  ridiculing  the  faults  of  his  adversaries. 
There  was  more  wit  and  raillery  in  his  fanaticism  than  can 
often  be  found  in  such  characters.  He  followed  the  friends 
of  the  word  of  God  into  the  colleges  and  houses  where  they 
used  to  meet,  debated  with  them,  and  pressed  them  to  aban- 
don their  faith.  He  was  a  second  Saul,  and  was  soon  to  re- 
semble the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  in  another  respect. 

He  first  saw  light  in  the  year  1491,  in  the  county  of  Lei- 
cester. Hugh's  father  was  an  honest  yeoman ;  and,  accom- 
panied by  one  of  his  six  sisters,  the  little  boy  had  often 
tended  in  the  pastures  the  five  score  sheep  belonging  to  the 
farm,  or  driven  home  to  his  mother  the  thirty  cows  it  was 
her  business  to  milk.*  In  1497,  the  Cornish  rebels,  under 
Lord  Audley,  having  encamped  at  Blackhedth,  our  farmer  had 
donned  his  rusty  armour,  and,  mounting  his  horse,  responded 
to  the  summons  of  the  crown.  Hugh,  then  only  six  years 
old,  was  present  at  his  departure,  and  as  if  he  had  wished  to 
take  his  little  part  in  the  battle,  he  had  buckled  the  straps 
of  his  father's  armour.  -J-  Fifty-two  years  afterwards  he  re- 
called this  circumstance  to  mind  in-a  sermon  preached  before 
King  Edward.  His  father's  house  was  always  open  to  the 
neighbours ;  and  no  poor  man  ever  turned  away  from  the 
door  without  having  received  alms.  The  old  man  brought 
up  his  family  in  the  love  of  men  and  in  the  fear  of  God,  and 
having  remarked  with  joy  the  precocious  understanding  of 
his  son,  he  had  him  educated  in  the  country  schools,  and 
then  sent  to  Cambridge  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  This  was  in 
1505,  just  as  Luther  was  entering  the  Augustine  convent. 

The  son  of  the  Leicestershire  yeoman  was  lively,  fond  of 
pleasure,  and  of  cheerful  conversation,  and  mingled  fre- 
quently in  the  amusements  of  his  fellow-students.  One  day, 
as  they  were  dining  together,  one  of  the  party  exclaimed : 

*  My  mother  milked  thirty  kine.    Latimer's  Sermons,  (Parker  ed.) 
p.  101. 
1 1  can  remember  that  I  buckled  his  harness.    Ibid. 

10*  K 


218  SUPERSTITIOUS  PRACTICES. 

Nil  melius  quam  Icetari  et  facere  bene  ! — "  There  is  nothing 
better  than  to  be  merry  and  to  do  well."  * — "  A  vengeance 
on  that  bene  /"  replied  a  monk  of  impudent  mien ;  "  I  wish 
it  were  beyond  the  sea;  f  it  mars  all  the  rest."  Young 
Latimer  was  much  surprised  at  the  remark :  "  I  understand 
it  now,"  said  he ;  "  that  will  be  a  heavy  bene  to  these  monks 
when  they  have  to  render  God  an  account  of  their  lives." 

Latimer  having  become  more  serious,  threw  himself  heart 
and  soul  into  the  practices  of  superstition,  and  a  very 
bigoted  old  cousin  undertook  to  instruct  him  in  them. 
One  day,  when  one  of  their  relations  lay  dead,  she  said  to 
him  :  "  Now  we  must  drive  out  the  devil.  Take  this  holy 
taper,  my  child,  and  pass  it  over  the  body,  first  longways 
and  then  athwart,  so  as  always  to  make  the  sign  of  the 
cross." 

But  the  scholar  performing  this  exorcism  very  awkwardly, 
his  aged  cousin  snatched  the  candle  from  his  hand,  exclaim- 
ing angrily :  "  It 's  a  great  pity  your  father  spends  so  much 
money  on  your  studies:  he  will  never  make  anything  of 
you."t 

This  prophecy  was  not  fulfilled.  He  became  Fellow  of 
Clare  Hall  in  1509,  and  took  his  master's  degree  in  1514. 
His  classical  studies  being  ended,  he  began  to  study  divin- 
ity. Duns  Scotus,  Aquinas,  and  Hugo  de  Sancto  Victore 
were  his  favourite  authors.  The  practical  side  of  things, 
however,  engaged  him  more  than  the  speculative ;  and  he 
was  more  distinguished  in  Cambridge  for  his  asceticism  and 
enthusiasm  than  for  his  learning.  He  attached  importance 
to  the  merest  trifles.  As  the  missal  directs  that  water 
should  be  mingled  with  the  sacramental  wine,  often  while 
saying  mass  he  would  be  troubled  in  his  conscience  for  fear 
he  had  not  put  sufficient  water.  §  This  remorse  never  left 
him  a  moment's  tranquillity  during  the  service.  In  him,  as 


*  Eccles.  iii.  12. 

f  I  would  that  bene  had  been  banished  beyond  the  sea.  Latimer's 
Sermons,  p.  153. 

£  Ibid.  p.  499. 

§  He  thought  he  had  never  sufficiently  mingled  his  massing  wine  with 
water.  Foxe,  Acts,  viii.  p.  433. 


AN  OBSTINATE  PAPIST STAFFORD  AND  THK  SOPHISTS.     219 

in  many  others,  attachment  to  puerile  ordinances  occupied 
in  his  heart  the  place  of  faith  in  the  great  truths.  With 
him,  the  cause  of  the  church  was  the  cause  of  God,  and  he 
respected  Thomas  a  Becket  at  least  as  much  as  St  Paul. 
"  I  was  then,"  said  he,  "  as  obstinate  a  papist  as  any  in  Eng- 
land." *  Luther  said  the  same  thing  of  himself. 

The  fervent  Latimer  soon  observed  that  everybody  around 
him  was  not  equally  zealous  with  himself  for  the  ceremonies 
of  the  church.  He  watched  with  surprise  certain  young 
members  of  the  university  who,  forsaking  the  doctors  of  the 
School,  met  daily  to  read  and  search  into  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. People  sneered  at  them  in  Cambridge :  "  It  is  only 
the  sophists"  was  the  cry ;  but  raillery  was  jiot  enough  for 
Latimer.  One  day  he  entered  the  room  where  these  sophists 
were  assembled,  and  begged  them  to  cease  studying  the 
Bible.  All  his  entreaties  were  useless.  Can  we  be  aston- 
ished at  it  ?  said  Latimer  *to  himself.  Don't  we  see  even  the 
tutors  setting  an  example  to  these  stray  sheep  ?  There  is 
Master  Stafford,  the  most  illustrious  professor  in  English 
jiniversities,  devoting  his  time  ad  Biblia,  like  Luther  at 
Wittemberg,  and  explaining  the  Scriptures  according  to  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  texts !  and  the  delighted  students  cele- 
brate in  bad  verse  the  doctor, 

Qui  Paulum  explicuit  rite  et  evangelium.^ 

That  young  people  should  occupy  themselves  with  these 
new  doctrines  was  conceivable,  but  that  a  doctor  of  divinity 
should  do  so — what  a  disgrace!  Latimer  therefore  deter- 
mined to  attack  Stafford.  He  insulted  him ;  \  he  entreated 
the  youth  of  Cambridge  to  abandon  the  professor  and  his 
heretical  teaching ;  he  attended  the  hall  in  which  the  doctor 
taught,  made  signs  of  impatience  during  the  lesson,  and 
cavilled  at  it  after  leaving  the  school.  He  even  preached 
in  public  against  the  learned  doctor.  But  it  seemed  to  him 
that  Cambridge  and  England  were  struck  blind :  true,  the 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  viii.  p.  334. 

f  Who  has  explained  to  us   the  true  sense  of  St  Paul  and  of  the 
gtspel.    Strype's  Mem.  i.  p.  74. 
±  Most  spitefully  railing  against  him.    Foxe,  Acts,  viii.  p.  437. 


220  LATIMER  ATTACKS  STAFFORD. 

clergy  approved  of  Latimer's  proceedings — nay,  praised 
them ;  and  yet  they  did  nothing.  To  console  him,  however, 
he  was  named  cross-bearer  to  the  university,  and  we  have 
already  seen  him  discharging  this  duty. 

Latimer  desired  to  show  himself  worthy  of  such  an  honour. 
He  had  left  the  students  to  attack  Stafford ;  and  he  now  left 
Stafford  for  a  more  illustrious  adversary.  But  this  attack 
led  him  to  some  one  that  icas  stronger  than  he.  At  the 
occasion  of  receiving  the  degree  of  bachelor  of  divinity  he 
had  to  deliver  a  Latin  discourse  in  the  presence  of  the  uni- 
versity; Latimer  chose  for  his  subject  Philip  Mclancthon 
and  his  doctrines.  Had  not  this  daring  heretic  presumed  to 
say  quite  recently  that  the  fathers  of  the  church  have  altered 
the  sense  of  Scripture  ?  Had  he  not  asserted  that,  like  those 
rocks  whose  various  colours  are  imparted  to  the  polypus 
which  clings  to  them,*  so  the  doctors  of  the  church  give  each 
their  own  opinion  in  the  passages  they  explain  ?  And,  finally, 
had  he  not  discovered  a  new  touchstone  (it  is  thus  he  styles 
the  Holy  Scripture)  by  which  we  must  test  the  sentences 
even  of  St  Thomas  ?  , 

Latimer's  discourse  made  a  great  impression.  At  last 
(said  his  hearers)  England,  nay  Cambridge,  will  furnish  a 
champion  for  the  church  that  will  confront  the  Wittemberg 
doctors,  and  save  the  vessel  of  our  Lord.  But  very  different 
was  to  be  the  result.  There  was  among  the  hearers  one 
man  almost  hidden  through  his  small  stature :  it  was  Bilney. 
For  some  time  he  had  been  watching  Latimer's  movements, 
and  his*zeal  interested  him,  though  it  was  a  zeal  without 
knowledge.  His  energy  was  not  great,  but  he  possessed  a 
delicate  tact,  a  skilful  discernment  of  character  which  enabled 
him  to  distinguish  error,  and  to  select  the  fittest  method  for 
combating  it.  Accordingly,  a  chronicler  styles  him  "  a  trier 
of  Satan's  subtleties,  appointed  by  God  to  detect  the  bad 
money  that  the  enemy  was  circulating  throughout  the 
church."-l-  Bilney  easily  detected  Latimer's  sophisms,  but 
at  the  same  time  loved  his  person,  and  conceived  the  design 
,of  winning  him  to  tlie  gospel.  But  how  to  manage  it?  The 

*  Ut  polypus  cuicunque  petrce  adhseserit,  ejus  colorem  imitatur.  Corp. 
Ref.  i.  p.  114.  t  Foxe,  Acts,  vii.  p.  438. 


LATIMER  HEARS  BILNEY's  CONFESSION.  221 

prejudiced  Latimer  would  not  even  listen  to  the  evangelical 
Bilney.  The  latter  reflected,  prayed,  and  at  last  planned  a 
very  candid  and  very  strange  plot,  which  led  to  one  of  the 
most  astonishing  conversions  recorded  in  history. 

He  went  to  the  college  where  Latimer  resided.  "  For  the 
love  of  God,"  he  said  to  him,  "  be  pleased  to  hear  iny  con- 
trssion."*  The  heretic  prayed  to  make  confession  to  the 
•-atholic :  what  a  singular  fact !  My  discourse  against  Mel- 
ancthon  has  no  doubt  converted  him,  said  Latimer  to  him- 
self. Had  not  Bilney  once  been  among  the  number  of  the 
most  pious  zealots  ?  His  pale  face,  his  wasted  frame,  and 
his  humble  look  are  clear  signs  that  he  ought  to  belong  to 
the  ascetics  of  Catholicism.  If  he  turns  back,  all  will  turn 
back  with  him,  and  the  reaction  will  be  complete  at  Cam- 
bridge. The  ardent  Latimer  eagerly  yielded  to  Bilney's 
request,  and  the  latter,  kneeling  before  the  cross-bearer, 
related  to  him  with  touching  simplicity  the  anguish  he  had 
once  felt  in  his  soul,  the  efforts  he  had  made  to  remove  it, 
their  unprofitableness  so  long  as  he  determined  to  follow  the 
precepts  of  the  church,  and,  lastly,  the  peace  he  had  felt  when 
he  believed  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Lamb  of  God  that  taketh 
'i  the  sins  of  the  world.  He  described  to  Latimer  the 
spirit  of  adoption  he  had  received,  and  the  happiness  he  ex- 
perienced in  being  able  now  to  call  God  his  father Lati- 
mer, who  expected  to  receive  a  confession,  listened  without 
mistrust.  His  heart  was  opened,  and  the  voice  of  the  pious 
Biliu-y  penetrated  it  withput  obstacle.  From  time  to  time 
the  confessor  would  have  chased  away  the  new  thoughts 
which  came  crowding  into  his  bosom;  but  the  penitent  con- 
tinued. His  language,  at  once  so  simple  and  so  lively, 
entered  like  a  two-edged  sword.  Bilney  was  not  without 
assistance  in  his  work.  A  new,  a  strange  witness, — the 
Holy  Ghost,f — was  speaking  in  Latimer's  soul.  He  learned 
from  God  to  know  God :  he  received  a  new  heart.  At  length 
grace  prevailed :  the  penitent  rose  up,  but  Latimer  remained 
seated,  absorbed  in  thought.  The  strong  cross-bearer  con- 

*  He  came  to  me  afterwards  in  my  study,  and  desired  me  for  Goa's 
ike  to  hear  his  confession.    Latimer's  Sermons,  p.  334. 
+  He  was  through  the  good  spirit  of  God  so  touched.    F'tce,  Till.  p.  438. 


222  LATIMER'S  TRANSFORMATION. 

tended  in  vain  against  the  words  of  the  feeble  Bilney.  Like 
Saul  on  the  way  to  Damascus,  he  was  conquered,  and  his 
conversion,  like  the  apostle's,  was  instantaneous.  He  stam- 
mered out  a  few  words ;  Bilney  drew  near  him  with  love, 
and  G-od  scattered  the  darkness  which  still  obscured  his 
mind.  He  saw  Jesus  Christ  as  the  only  Saviour  given  to 
man :  he  contemplated  and  adored  him.  "  I  learnt  more  by 
this  confession,"  he  said  afterwards,  "  than  by  much  reading 

and  in  many  years  before* I  now  tasted  the  word  of 

Grod,-|-  and  forsook  the  doctors  of  the  school  and  all  their 
fooleries."|  It  was  not  the  penitent  but  the  confessor  who 
received  absolution.  Latimer  viewed  with  horror  the  obsti- 
nate war  he  had  waged  against  God ;  he  wept  bitterly ;  but 
Bilney  consoled  him.  "Brother,"  said  he,  "though  your 
sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  white  as  snow."  These  two 
young  men,  then  locked  in  their  solitary  chamber  at  Cam- 
bridge, were  one  day  to  mount  the  scaffold  for  that  divine 
Master  whose  spirit  was  teaching  them.  But  one  of  them 
before  going  to  the  stake  was  first  to  sit  on  an  episcopal 
throne. 

Latimer  was  changed.  The  energy  of  his  character  was 
tempered  by  a  divine  unction.  Becoming  a  believer,  he  had 
ceased  to  be  superstitious.  Instead  of  persecuting  Jesus 
Christ,  he  became  a  zealous  seeker  after  him.§  Instead  of 
cavilling  and  railing,  he  showed  himself  meek  and  gentle ;  || 
instead  of  frequenting  company,  he  sought  solitude,  study- 
ing the  Scriptures  and  advancing  in  true  theology.  He 
threw  off  the  old  man  and  put  on  the  new.  He  waited  upon 
Stafford,  begged  forgiveness  for  the  insult  he  had  offered 
him,  and  then  regularly  attended  his  lectures,  being  sub- 
jugated more  by  this  doctor's  angelic  conversation^  than  by 
his  learning.  But  it  was  Bilney's  society  Latimer  cultivated 
jnost.  They  conversed  together  daily,  took  frequent  walks 

*  Latimer's  Sermons,  p.  334. 

•f-  From  that  time  forward  I  began  to  smell  the  word  of  God.    Ibid. 

J  Ibid.  p.  335. 

§  Whereas  before  he  was  an  enemy  and  almost  a  persecutor  of  Christ, 
he  was  now  a  zealous  seeker  after  him.  Foxe,  Acts,  vii.  p.  338.  ||  Ibid. 

11  A  man  of  a  very  perfect  life  and  angelic  conversation.  Becon's 
Works  (Parker  Soc.)  p.  425. 


BILNEY  PREACHES  GRACE MUSIC  AND  PRAYER.  223 

together  into  the  country,  and  occasionally  rested  at  a  place, 
long  known  as  "  the  heretic's  hill."* 

So  striking  a  conversion  gave  fresh  vigour  to  the  evan- 
gelical movement.  Hitherto  Bilney  and  Latimer  had  been 
the  most  zealous  champions  of  the  two  opposite  causes ;  the 
one  despised,  the  other  honoured ;  the  weak  man  had  con- 
quered the  strong.  This  action  of  the  Spirit  of  God  was 
not  thrown  away  upon  Cambridge.  Latimer's  conversion, 
as  of  old  the  miracles  of  the  apostles,  struck  men's  minds ; 
and  was  it  not  in  truth  a  miracle  ?  All  the  youth  of  the 
university  ran  to  hear  Bilney  preach.  He  proclaimed 
"  Jesus  Christ  as  He  who,  having  tasted  death,  has  delivered 
his  people  from  the  penalty  of  sin."-}-  While  the  doctors  of 
the  school  (even  the  most  pious  of  them)  laid  most  stress 
upon  marts  part  in  the  work  of  redemption,  Bilney  on  the 
contrary  emphasized  the  other  term,  namely,  God's  part. 
This  doctrine  of  grace,  said  his  adversaries,  annuls  the 
sacraments,  and  contradicts  baptismal  regeneration.  The 
selfishness  which  forms  the  essence  of  fallen  humanity  re- 
jected the  evangelical  doctrine,  and  felt  that  to  accept  it  was 
to  be  lost.  " Many  listened  with  the  left  ear"  to  use  an 
expression  of  Bilney's ;  "  like  Malchus,  having  their  right 
ear  cut  off;"  and  they  filled  the  university  with  their  com- 
plaints. 

But  Bilney  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  stopped.  The 
idea  of  eternity  had  seized  on  his  mind,  and  perhaps  he  still 
retained  some  feeble  relic  of  the  exaggerations  of  asceticism. 
He  condemned  every  kind  of  recreation,  even  when  innocent. 
Music  in  the  churches  seemed  to  him  a  mockery  of  God ;  J 
and  when  Thurlby,  who  was  afterwards  a  bishop,  and  who 
lived  at  Cambridge  in  the  room  below  his,  used  to  begin 
playing  on  the  recorder,  Bilney  would  fall  on  his  knees  and 
pour  out  his  soul  in  prayer :  to  him  prayer  was  the  sweetest 
melody.  He  prayed  that  the  lively  faith  of  the  children  of 
God  might  in  all  England  be  substituted  for  the  vanity  and 

*  Foxe,  viii.'p.  452. 

+  Christus  quern  pro  virili  doceo denique  et  satisfactionem.    Ep.ad 

Tonstallum  episcop.     Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  633. 
t  Ibid.  p.  621. 


224  NATURE  OF  THE  MINISTRY. 

pride  of  the  priests.  He  believed — he  prayed — he  waited 
His  waiting  was  not  to  be  in  vain. 

Latimer  trod  in  his  footsteps :  the  transformation  of  his 
soul  was  going  on ;  and  the  more  fanaticism  he  had  shown 
for  the  sacerdotal  system,  which  places  salvation  in  the 
hands  of  the  priest,  the  more  zeal  he  now  showed  for  the 
evangelical  system,  which  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  Christ. 
He  saw  that  if  the  churches  must  needs  have  ministers,  it 
is  not  because  they  require  a  human  mediation,  but  from 
the  necessity  of  a  regular  preaching  of  the  gospel  and  a 
steady  direction  of  the  flock;  and  accordingly  he  would 
have  wished  to  call  the  servant  of  the  Lord  minister  (vvqe'erric 
or  diaKovog  rot!  Xoyou),  and  not  priest*  (/£fs6s  or  sacerdos}. 
In  his  view,  it  was  not  the  imposition  of  hands  by  the 
bishop  that  gave  grace,  but  grace  which  authorized  the  im- 
position of  hands.  He  considered  activity  to  be  ene  of  the 
essential  features  of  the  gospel  ministry.  "  Would  you 
know,"  said  he,  "  why  the  Lord  chose  fishermen  to  be  his 

apostles? See  how  they  watch  day  and  night  at  their 

nets  to  take  all  such  fishes  that  they  can  get  and  come  in 

their  way So  all  our  bishops,  and  curates,  and  vicars 

should  be  as  painful  in  casting  their  nets,  that  is  to  say,  in 
preaching  God's  word."f  He  regarded  all  confidence  in 
human  strength  as  a  remnant  of  paganism.  "  Let  us  not 
do,"  he  said,  "  as  the  haughty  Ajax,  who  said  to  his  father 
as  he  went  to  battle :  "Without  the  help  of  God  I  am  able  to 
fight,  and  I  will  get  the  victory  with  mine  own  strength."  J 

The  Reformation  had  gained  in  Latimer  a  very  different 
man  from  Bilney.  He  had  not  so  much  discernment  and 
prudence,  perhaps,  but  he  had  more  energy  and  eloquence. 
What  Tyndale  was  to  be  for  England  by  his  writings,  Lati- 
mer was  to  be  by  his  discourses.  The  tenderness  of  his 
conscience,  the  warmth  of  his  zeal,  and  the  vivacity  of  his 
understanding,  were  enlisted  in  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  if  at  times  he  was  carried  too  far  by  the  liveliness  of  his 
wit,  it  only  shows  that  the  reformers  were  not  saints,  but 

*  Minister  is  a  more  fit  name  for  that  office.    Latimer's  Remains, 
p.  264.  f  Ibid.  p.  24. 

J  Latimer's  Sermons,'  p.  491.    Sophocles,  Ajax,  783,  et  seq. 


LATIMER'S  PREACHING.  225 

sanctified  men.  "  He  was  one  of  the  first,"  says  an  his- 
torian, "  who,  in  the  days  of  King  Henry  VIII.,  set  himself 
to  preach  the  gospel  in  the  truth  and  simplicity  of  it."  *  He 
preached  in  Latin  ad  clerum,  and  in  English  ad  populum. 
He  boldly  placed  the  law  with  its  curses  before  his  hearers, 
and  then  conjured  them  to  flee  towards  the  Saviour  of  the 
world.-j-  The  same  zeal  which  he  had  employed  in  saying 
mass,  he  now  employed  in  preaching  the  true  sacrifice  of 
Christ.  He  said  one  day : — "  If  one  man  had  committed  all 
the  sins  since  Adam,  you  may  be  sure  he  should  be  punish- 
ed with  the  same  horror  of  death,  in  such  a  sort  as  all  men 

in  the  world  should  have  suffered Such  was  the  pain 

Christ  endured If  our  Saviour  had  committed  all  the 

sins  of  the  world ;  all  that  I  for  my  part  have  done,  ail  that 
you  for  your  part  have  done,  and  that  any  man  else  hath 
done;  if  he  had  done  all  this  himself,  his  agony  that  he 
suffered  should  have  been  no  greater  nor  -grievouser  than  it 

was Believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  you  shall  overcome 

death But,  alas!"  said  he  at  another  time,  "the  devil, 

by  the  help  of  that  Italian  bishop,  his  chaplain,  has  laboured 
by  all  means  that  he  might  frustrate  the  death  of  Christ  and 
the  merits  of  his  passion."  J 

Thus  began  in  British  Christendom  the  preaching  of  the 
Cross.  The  Reformation  was  not  the  substitution  of  the 
Catholicism  of  the  first  ages  for  the  popery  of  the  middle 
ages:  it  was  a  revival  of  the  preaching  of  St  Paul,  and 
thus  it  was  that  on  hearing  Latimer  every  one  exclaimed 
with  rapture:  "Of  a  Saul,  God  has  made  him  a  very 
Paul."§ 

To  the  inward  power  of  faith  the  Cambridge  evangelists 
added  the  outward  power  of  the  life.  Saul  become  Paul, 
the  strong,  the  ardent  Latimer,  had  need  of  action;  and 
Bilney,  the  weak  and  humble  Bilney,  in  delicate  health, 
observing  a  severe  diet,  taking  ordinarily  but  one  meal 

*  Strype's  Mem.  iii.  part  i.  p.  378. 
t  Flying  to  him  by  an  evangelical  faith.    Ibid. 
J  Latimer's  Sermons,  p.  74. 

§  This  was  sa/d  by  Ralph  Morice,  afterwards  Cranmer's  secretary 
Strypo,  Eccl.  Mem.  iii.  part  i.  p.  368. 

K2 


226  WOKKS  OF  CHARITY. 

a-day,  and  never  sleeping  more  than  four  hours,  absorbed  in 
prayer  and  in  the  study  of  the  word,  displayed  at  that  time 
all  the  energy  of  charity.  These  two  friends  devoted  them- 
selves not  merely  to  the  easy  labours  of  Christian  benefi- 
cence ;  but,  caring  little  lor  that  formal  Christianity  so  often 
met  with  among  the  easy  classes,  they  explored  the  gloomy 
cells  of  the  madhouse  to  bear  the  sweet  and  subtle  voice  of 
the  gospel  to  the  infuriate  maniacs.  They  visited  the  miser- 
able lazar-house  without  the  town,  in  which  several  poor 
lepers  were  dwelling ;  they  carefully  tended  them,  wrapped 
them  in  clean  sheets,  and  wooed  them  to  be  converted  to 
Christ.*  The  gates  of  the  jail  at  Cambridge  were  opened  to 
them,-}-  and  they  announced  to  the  poor  prisoners  that  word 
which  giveth  liberty.  Some  were  converted  by  it,  and 
longed  for  the  day  of  their  execution.^:  Latimer,  afterwards 
bishop  of  Worcester,  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  types  of 
the  Reformation  in  England. 

He  was  opposed  by  numerous  adversaries.  In  the  front 
rank  were  the  priests,  who  spared  no  endeavours  to  retain 
souls.  "  Beware,"  said  Latimer  to  the  new  converts,  "  lest 
robbers  overtake  you,  and  plunge  you  into  the  pope's  prison 
of  purgatory."  §  After  these  came  the  sons  and  favourites 
of  the  aristocracy,  worldly  and  frivolous  students,  who  felt 
little  disposition  to  listen  to  the  gospel.  "By  yeomen's 
sons  the  faith  of  Christ  is  and  hath  been  chiefly  maintained 
in  the  church," ||  said  Latimer.  "Is  this  realm  taught  by 
rich  men's  sons?  No,  no;  read  the  chronicles;  ye  shall 
find  sometime  noblemen's  sons  which  have  been  unpreaching 
bishops  and  prelates,  but  ye  shall  find  none  of  them  learned 
men."  He  would  have  desired  a  mode  of  election  which 
placed  in  the  Christian  pulpit,  not  the  richest  and  most 
fashionable  men,  but  the  ablest  and  most  pious.  Tliis  im- 
portant reform  was  reserved  for  other  days.  Lastly,  the 

*  Preaching  at  the  lazar-cots,  wrapping  them  in  sheets.  Foxe,  Acts, 
iv.  p.  620.  Lond.  1846. 

t  Latimer's  Sermons,  p.  335  (Park.  Soc.) 

J  She  had  such  a  savour,  such  a  sweetness,  and  feeling,  that  she 
thought  it  long  to  the  day  of  execution.  Ibid.  p.  180. 

§  Strype's  Eccles.  Memorials,  iii.  part  i.  p.  378. 

0  Latimer's  Sermons,  p.  102. 


WORLDLINESS  AND  BRUTALITY — DALABER.      227 

evangelists  of  Cambridge  came  into  collision  with  the  bru- 
tality of  many,  to  use  Latimer's  own  expression.  "  What 
need  have  we  of  universities  and  schools  ? "  said  the 
students  of  this  class.  The  Holy  Ghost  "  will  give  us  al- 
ways what  to  say." — "  We  must  trust  in  the  Holy  Ghost,'1 
replied  Latimer,  "  but  not  presume  on  it.  If  you  will  not 
maintain  universities,  you  shall  have  a  brutality"*  In 
this  manner  the  Reformation  restored  to  Cambridge  gravity 
and  knowledge,  along  with  truth  and  charity. 

Yet  Bilney  and  Latimer  often  turned  their  eyes  towards 
Oxford,  and  wondered  how  the  light  would  be  able  to  pene- 
trate there.  Wolsey  provided  for  that.  A  Cambridge 
master-of-arts,  John  Clark,  a  conscientious  man,  of  tender 
heart,  great  prudence,  and  unbounded  devotion  to  his  duty, 
had  been  enlightened  by  the  word  of  God.  Wolsey,  who 
since  1523  had  been  seeking  everywhere  for  distinguished 
scholars  to  adorn  his  new  college,  invited  Clark  among  the 
first.  This  doctor,  desirous  of  bearing  to  Oxford  the  light 
which  God  had  given  Cambridge,  immediately  began  to 
deliver  a  course  of  divinity  lectures,  to  hold  conferences,  and 
to  preach  in  his  eloquent  manner.  He  taught  every  day.-f- 
Among  the  graduates  and  students  who  followed  him  was 
Anthony  Dalaber,  a  young  man  of  simple  but  profound 
feeling,  who  while  listening  to  him  had  experienced  in  his 
heart  the  regenerating  power  of  the  gospel.  Overflowing 
with  the  happiness  which  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ 
imparted  to  him,  he  went  to  the  cardinal's  college,  knocked 
at  Clark's  door,  and  said :  "  Father,  allow  me  never  to  quit 
you  more!"  The  teacher,  beholding  the  young  disciple's 
enthusiasm,  loved  him,  but  thought  it  his  duty  to  try  him : 
"  Anthony,"  said  he,  "  you  know  not  what  you  ask.  My 
teaching  is  now  pleasant  to  you,  but  the  time  will  come 
when  God  will  lay  the  cross  of  persecution  on  you ;  you  will 
be  dragged  before  bishops ;  your  name  will  be  covered  with 
shame  in  the  world,  and  ah1  who  love  you  will  be  heart- 
broken on  account  of  you Then,  my  friend,  you  will 

regret  that  you  ever  knew  me." 

*  Latimer's  Sermons,  p.  269. 

t  Teach  or  preach,  which  he  did  daily.    Foxe,  Acis,  v.  p.  426. 


228  PERSECUTION  SUSPENDED. 

Anthony  believing  himself  rejected,  and  unable  to  bear 
the  idea  of  returning  to  the  barren  instructions  of  the  priests, 
fell  on  his  knees,  and  weeping  bitterly,*  exclaimed :  "  Foi 
the  tender  mercy  of  God,  turn  me  not  away ! "  Touched  by 
his  sorrow,  Clark  folded  him  in  his  arms,  kissed  him,  and 
with  tears  in  his  eyes  exclaimed :  "  The  Lord  give  thee 

what  thou  askest! Take  me  for  thy  father,  I  take  thee 

for  my  son."  From  that  hour  Anthony,  all  joy,  was  like 
Timothy  at  the  feet  of  Paul.  He  united  a  quick  under- 
standing with  tender  affections.  When  any  of  the  students 
had  not  attended  Clark's  conferences,  the  master  commis- 
sioned his  disciple  to  visit  them,  to  inquire  into  their  doubts, 
and  to  impart  to  them  his  instructions.  "  This  exercise  did 
me  much  good,"  said  Dalaber,  "  and  I  made  great  progress 
in  the  knowledge  of  Scripture." 

Thus  the  kingdom  of  God,  which  consists  not  irf  forms, 
but  in  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  was  set  up  in  Cambridge  and 
Oxford.  The  alarmed  schoolmen,  beholding  their  most  pious 
scholars  escaping  one  after  another  from  their  teaching, 
called  the  bishops  to  their  aid,  and  the  latter  determined  to 
send  agents  to  Cambridge,  the  focus  of  the  heresy,  to  appre- 
hend the  leaders.  This  took  place  in  1523  or  the  beginning 
of  1524.  The  episcopal  officers  had  arrived,  and  were  pro- 
ceeding to  business.  The  most  timid  began  to  feel  alarm, 
but  Latimer  was  full  of  courage ;  when  suddenly  the  agents 
of  the  clergy  were  forbidden  to  go  on,  and  this  prohibition, 
strange  to  say,  originated  with  Wolsey ;  "  upon  what  ground 
I  cannot  imagine,"  says  Burnet.f  Certain  events  were 
taking  place  at  Rome  of  a  nature  to  exercise  great  influence 
over  the  priestly  councils,  and  which  may  perhaps  explain 
what  Burnet  could  not  understand. 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  426. 

f  History  of  the  Reformation,  i.  p.  25.    Lond.  1841. 


WOLSEY'S  AMBITION.  229 


CHAPTER  X. 

Wolsey  seeks  the  Tiara — Clement  VII.  is  elected — Wolsey's  Dissimu- 
lation— Charles  offers  France  to  Henry — Pace's  Mission  on  this  Subject 
— Wolsey  reforms  the  Convents— His  secret  Alliances — Treaty  between 
France  and  England— Taxation  and  Insurrection— False  Charges 
against  the  Reformers — Latimer's  Defence — Tenterden  Steeple. 

ADRIAN  VI.  died  on  the  14th  September  1523,  before  the 
end  of  the  second  year  of  his  pontificate.  Wolsey  thought 
himself  pope.  At  length  he  would  no  longer  be  the  favour- 
ite only,  but  the  arbiter  of  the  kings  of  the  earth ;  and  his 
genius,  for  which  England  was  too  narrow,  would  have 
Europe  and  the  world  for  its  stage.  Already  revolving 
gigantic  projects  in  his  mind,  the  future  pope  dreamt  of  the 
destruction  of  heresy  in  the  west,  and  in  the  east  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  Greek  schism,  and  new  crusades  to  replant  the 
cross  on  the  walls  of  Constantinople.  There  is  nothing  that 
Wolsey  would  not  have  dared  undertake  when  once  seated 
on  the  throne  of  Catholicism,  and  the  pontificates  of  Gregory 
VII.  and  Innocent  III.  would  have  been  eclipsed  by  that  of 
the  Ipswich  butcher's  son.  The  cardinal  reminded  Henry 
of  his  promise,  and  the  very  next  day  the  king  signed  a 
letter  addressed  to  Charles  the  Fifth. 

Believing  himself  sure  of  the  emperor,  Wolsey  turned  all 
his  exertions  to  the  side  of  Rome.  "  The  legate  of  England," 
said  Henry's  ambassadors  to  the  cardinals,  "  is  the  very  man 
for  the  present  time.  He  is  the  only  one  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  interests  and  wants  of  Christendom,  and 
strong  enough  to  provide  for  them.  He  is  all  kindness,  and 
will  share  his  dignities  and  wealth  among  all  the  prelates 
who  support  him." 

But  Julio  de'  Medici  himself  aspired  to  the  papacy,  and 
as  eighteen  cardinal  were  devoted  to  him,  the  election  could 
not  take  place  without  his  support.  "  Rather  Jthan  yield," 
said  he  in  the  conclave,  "  I  would  die  in  this  prison."  A 
month  passed  away,  and  nothing  was  done.  New  intrigues 


230  ELECTION  OP  CLEMENT  VII. 

were  then  resorted  to  :  there  were  cabals  for  >V  olsey,  cabals 
for  Medici.  The  cardinals  were  besieged : 

Into  their  midst,  toy  many  a  secret  path, 
Creeps  sly  intrigue.* 

At  length,  on  the  19th  November  1523,  the  people  col- 
lected under  their  windows,  shouting :  "  No  foreign  pope." 
After  forty-nine  days'  debating,  Julio  was  elected,  and  accord- 
ing to  his  own  expression,  "  bent  his  head  beneath  the  yoke 
of  apostolic  servitude."-]-  He  took  the  name  of  Clement  VII. 

Wolsey  was  exasperated.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  pre- 
sented himself  before  St  Peter's  chair  at  each  vacancy :  a 
more  active  or  more  fortunate  rival  always  reached  it  be- 
fore him.  Master  of  England,  and  the  most  influential  of 
European  diplomatists,  he  saw  men  preferred  to  him  who 
were  his  inferiors.  This  election  was  an  event  for  the  Re- 
formation. Wolsey  as  pope  would,  humanly  speaking,  have 
tightened  the  cords  which  already  bound  England  so  closely 
to  Rome ;  but  Wolsey,  rejected,  could  hardly  fail  to  throw 
himself  into  tortuous  paths  which  would  perhaps  contribute 
to  the"  emancipation  of  the  Church.  He  became  more  crafty 
than  ever ;  declared  to  Henry  that  the  new  election  was 
quite  in  conformity  with  his  wishes,^  and  hastened  to  con- 
gratulate the  new  pope.  He  wrote  to  his  agents  at  Rome : 
"  This  election,  I  assure  you,  is  as  much  to  the  king's  and 
my  rejoicing,  consolation,  and  gladness,  as  possibly  may  be 

devised  or  imagined Ye  shall  show  unto  his  holiness 

what  joy,  comfort,  and  gladness  it  is  both  to  the  king's  high- 
ness and  me  to  perceive  that  once  in  our  lives  it  hath  pleased 
God  of  his  great  goodness  to  provide  such  a  pastor  unto  his 
church,  as  his  grace  and  I  have  long  inwardly  desired ;  who 
for  his  virtue,  wisdom,  and  other  high  and  notable  qualities, 
we  have  always  reputed  the  most  able  and  worthy  person  to 

*  Un  conclave,  by  C.  Delavigne. 

t  Colla  Bubjecimus  jugo  apostolicse  servitutis.  Rymer,  Fcedera,  vi. 
2,  p.  7. 

J  I  take  God  to  witness,  I  am  more  joyous  thereof  than  if  it  had  for- 
tuned upon  my  person.  Wols«y  to  Henry  VIII.  Burnet,  Records, 
p.  cccxxyiii.  (lond.  1841.) 


WOLSEY'S  HATRED  OP  CHARLES  v.  231 

be  called  to  that  dignity."*  But  the  pope,  divining  his  com- 
petitor's vexation,  sent  the  king  a  golden  rose,  and  a  ring 
to  Wolsey.  "  I  am  sorry,"  he  said  as  he  drew  it  from  his 
finger,  "  that  I  cannot  present  it  to  his  eminence  in  person.'' 
Clement  moreover  conferred  on  him  the  quality  of  legate 
for  life — an  office  which  had  hitherto  been  temporary  only. 
Thus  the  popedora  and  England  embraced  each  other,  and 
nothing  appeared  more  distant  than  that  Christian  revolu- 
tion which  was  destined  very  shortly  to  emancipate  Britain 
from  the  tutelage  of  the  Vatican. 

Wolsey's  disappointed  ambition  made  him  suspend  the 
proceedings  of  the  clergy  at  Cambridge.  He  had  revenge  in 
his  heart,  and  cared  not  to  persecute  his  fellow-countrymen 
merely  to  please  his  rival ;  and  besides,  like  several  popes, 
he  had  a  certain  fondness  for  learning.  To  send  a  few  Lol- 
lards to  prison  was  a  matter  of  no  difficulty ;  but  learned 

doctors this  required  a  closer  examination.  Hence  he 

gave  Rome  a  sign  of  independence.  And  yet  it  was  not 
specially  against  the  pope  that  he  began  to  entertain  sinis- 
ter designs :  Clement  had  been  more  fortunate  than  him- 
self ;  but  that  was  no  reason  why  he  should  be  angry  with 

him Charles  V.  was  the  offender,  and  Wolsey  swore  a 

deadly  hatred  against  him.  Resolved  to  strike,  he  sought 
only  the  place  where  he  could  inflict  the  severest  blow.  To 
obtain  his  end,  he  resolved  to  dissemble  his  passion,  and  to 
distil  drop  by  drop  into  Henry's  mind  that  mortal  hatred 
against  Charles,  which  gave  fresh  energy  to  his  activity. 

Charles  discovered  the  indignation  that  lay  hid  under 
Wolsey's  apparent  mildness,  and  wishing  to  retain  Henry's 
alliance,  he  made  more  pressing  advances  to  the  king.  Hav- 
ing deprived  the  minister  of  a  tiara,  he  resolved  to  offer  the 
king  a  crown:  this  \vas,  indeed,  a  noble  compensation! 
"  You  are  king  of  France,"  the  emperor  said,  "  and  I  under- 
take to  win  your  kingdom  for  you.f  Only  send  an  ambas- 
sador to  Italy  to  negotiate  the  matter."  Wolsey,  who  could 
hardly  contain  his  vexation,  was  forced  to  comply,  in  appear- 

*  Wolsey  to  Secretary  Pace.  Gait's  Wolsey,  p.  381,  Appendix.  (Lend 
1846.) 
t  Ellis'  Letters,  Second  Series,  p.  326,  327. 


232  PACE'S  EMBASSY. 

ance  at  least,  with  the  emperor's  views.  The  king,  indeed, 
seemed  to  think  of  nothing  but  his  arrival  at  St  Germain's, 
and  commissioned  Pace  to  visit  Italy  for  this  important 
business.  Wolsey  hoped  that  he  would  be  unable  to  exe- 
cute his  commission ;  it  was  impossible  to  cross  the  Alps, 
for  the  French  troops  blockaded  every  passage.  But  Pace, 
who  was  one  of  those  adventurous  characters  whom  nothing 
can  stop,  spurred  on  by  the  thought  that  the  king  himself 
had  sent  him,  determined  to  cross  the  Col  di  Tcnda.  On 
the  27th  July,  he  entered  the  mountains,  traversed  precipi- 
tous passes,  sometimes  climbing  them  on  all-fours,*  and 
often  falling  during  the  descent.  In  some  places  he  could 
ride  on  horseback ;  "  but  in  the  most  part  thereof  I  durst 
not  either  turn  my  horse  traverse  (he  wrote  to  the  king)  for 
all  the  worldly  riches,  nor  in  manner  look  on  my  left  hand, 
for  the  pronite  and  deepness  to  the  valley."  After  this  pas- 
sage, which  lasted  six  days,  Pace  arrived  in  Italy  worn  out 
by  fatigue.  "  If  the  king  of  England  will  enter  France  im- 
mediately byway  of  Normandy,"  said  the  constable  of  Bour- 
bon to  him,  "  I  will  give  him  leave  to  pluck  out  both  my 
eyes-J-  if  he  is  not  master  of  Paris  before  All-Saints;  and 
when  Paris  is  taken,  he  will  be  master  of  the  whole  king- 
dom." But  Wolsey,  to  whom  these  remarks  were  trans- 
mitted by  the  ambassador,  slighted  them,  delayed  furnishing 
the  subsidies,  and  required  certain  conditions  which  were 
calculated  to  thwart  the  project.  Pace,  who  was  ardent  and 
ever  imprudent,  but  plain  and  straightforward,  forgot  him- 
self, and  in  a  moment  of  vexation  wrote  to  Wolsey :  "  To 
speak  frankly,  if  you  do  not  attend  to  these  things,  I  shall 
impute  to  your  grace  the  loss  of  the  crown  of  France." 
These  words  ruined  Henry's  envoy  in  the  cardinal's  mind. 
Was  this  man,  who  owed  everything  to  him,  trying  to  sup- 
plant him? Pace  in  vain  assured  Wolsey  that  he  should 

not  take  seriously  what  he  had  said ;  but  the  bolt  had  hit. 
Pace  was  associated  with  Charles  in  the  cruel  enmity  of  the 
minister,  and  he  was  one  day  to  feel  its  terrible  effects.  It 

*  It  made  us  creep  of  all-four.    Pace  to  the  king,  Strype,  vol.  i.  part 
ii.  p.  27. 
t  Cotton  MSS.,  Vitellius,  B.  6.  p.  87. 


WOLSEY  REFORMS  THE  MONASTERIES.  23b 

was  not  long  before  Wolsey  was  able  to  satisfy  himself  that 
the  service  Charles  had  desired  to  render  the  king  of  Eng- 
land was  beyond  the  emperor's  strength. 

No  sooner  at  ease  on  one  side,  than  Wolsey  found  himself 
attacked  on  another.  This  man,  the  most  powerful  among 
kings'  favourites,  felt  at  this  time  the  first  breath  of  disfavour 
blow  over  him.  On  the  pontifical  throne,  he  would  no 
doubt  have  attempted  a  reform  after  the  manner  of  Sixtus 
V. ;  and  wishing  to  rehearse  on  a  smaller  stage,  and  regen- 
erate after  his  own  fashion  the  catholic  church  in  England, 
he  submitted  the  monasteries  to  a  strict  inquisition,  patron- 
ized the  instruction  of  youth,  and  was  the  first  to  set  a  great 
example,  by  suppressing  certain  religious  houses,  whose 
revenues  he  applied  to  his  college  in  Oxford.  Thomas 
Cromwell,  his  solicitor,  displayed  much  skill  and  industry  in 
this  business,*  and  thus,  under  the  orders  of  a  cardinal  of  the 
Roman  church,  made  his  first  campaign  in  a  war  of  which 
he  was  in  later  days  to  hold  the  chief  command.  Wolsey 
and  Cromwell,  by  their  reforms,  drew  down  the  hatred  of 
certain  monks,  priests,  and  noblemen,  always  the  very  humble 
servants  of  the  clerical  party.  The  latter  accused  the  cardi- 
nal of  not  having  estimated  the  monasteries  at  their  just 
value,  and  of  having,  in  certain  cases,  encroached  on  the 
royal  jurisdiction.  Henry,  whom  the  loss  of  the  crown  of 
France  had  put  in  a  bad  humour,  resolved,  for  the  first  time, 
not  to  spare  his  minister :  "  There  are  loud  murmurs 
throughout  this  kingdom,"  he  said  to  him ;  "  it  is  asserted 
that  your  new  college  at  Oxford  is  only  a  convenient  cloak 
to  hide  your  malversations." -j-  "God  forbid,"  replied  the 
cardinal,  "  that  this  virtuous  foundation  at  Oxford,  under- 
taken for  the  good  of  my  poor  soul,  should  be  raised  ex  rapi- 
nis !  But,  above  all,  God  forbid  that  I  should  ever  en- 
croach upon  your  royal  authority."  He  then  cunningly  in- 
sinuated, that  by  his  will  he  left  all  his  property  to  the  king. 
Henry  was  satisfied  :  he  had  a  share  in  the  business. 

Events  of  very  different  importance  drew  the  king's  at- 
tention to  another  quarter.  The  two  armies,  of  the  empire 

*  Very  forward  and  industrious.    Foxe,  Acts,  T.  p.  366. 
f  Collier's  Eocles.  Hist.  x.  p.  20. 
T«fc.  T.  11 


234  ALLIANCE  BETWEEN  FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND. 

and  of  France,  were  in  presence  before  Pavia.  Wolsey,  who 
openly  gave  his  right  hand  to  Charles  V.,  and  secretly  his 
left  to  Francis,  repeated  to  his  master:  "If  the  emperor 
gains  the  victory,  are  you  not  his  ally?  and  if  Francis,  am 
I  not  in  secret  communication  with  him  ?"*  "  Thus,"  added 
the  cardinal,  "  whatever  happens,  your  Highness  will  have 
great  cause  to  give  thanks  to  Almighty  God." 

On  the  24th  of  February  1525,  the  battle  of  Pavia  was 
fought,  and  the  imperialists  found  in  the  French  king's  tent 
several  of  Wolsey's  letters,  and  in  his  military  chest  and  in 
the  pockets  of  his  soldiers  the  cardinal's  corrupting  gold. 
This  alliance  had  been  contrived  by  Giovanni  Gioacchino,  a 
Genoese  master  of  the  household  to  Louisa,  regent  of  France, 
who  passed  for  a  merchant  of  Bologna,  and  lived  in  conceal- 
ment at  Blackfriars.  Charles  now  saw  what  he  had  to  trust 
to ;  but  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Pavia  had  scarcely  reached 
England,  when,  faithful  in  perfidy,  Wolsey  gave  utterance  to 
a  feigned  pleasure.  The  people  rejoiced  also,  but  they  were 
in  earnest.  Bonfires  were  lighted  in  the  streets  of  London ; 
the  fountains  ran  wine,  and  the  lord-mayor,  attended  by  the 
aldermen,  passed  through  the  city  on  horseback  to  the  sound 
of  the  trumpet. 

The  cardinal's  joy  was  not  altogether  false.  He  would 
have  been  pleased  at  his  enemy's  defeat ;  but  his  victory 
was  perhaps  still  more  useful  to  him. 

He  said  to  Henry :  "  The  emperor  is  a  liar,  observing 
neither  faith  nor  promise :  the  Archduchess  Margaret  is  a 
woman  of  evil  life ;  -j-  Don  Ferdinand  is  a  child,  and  Bourbon 
a  traitor.  Sire,  you  have  other  things  to  do  with  your 
money  than  to  squander  it  on  these  four  individuals. 
Charles  is  aiming  at  universal  monarchy ;  Pavia  is  the  first 
step  of  this  throne,  and  if  England  does  not  oppose  him,  he 
will  attain  it."  Joachim  having  come  privily  to  London, 
Wolsey  prevailed  upon  Hemy  to  conclude  between  Eng- 
land and  France  an  "  indissoluble  peace  by  land  and  sea."  \ 

*  By  such  communications  as  he  set  forth  with  France  apart.  State 
Papers,  i.  p.  158. 

t  Milady  Margaret  was  a  ribaud.    Cotton  MSS.    Vosp.  C.  3,  p.  55. 

£  Sincera  fidelis,  firma  et  indissolubilis  pax.  Rymer,  Fcedera,  p 
82,  33. 


KEW  TAXES  AND  INSURRECTION.  235 

At  last  then  he  was  in  a  position  to  prove  to  Charles  that 
it  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  oppose  the  ambition  of  a  priest. 

This  was  not  the  only  advantage  Wolsey  derived  from 
the  triumph  of  his  enemy.  The  citizens  of  London  imagined 
that  the  king  of  England  would  be  in  a  few  weeks  in  Paris ; 
Wolsey,  rancorous  and  grasping,  determined  to  make  them 
pay  dearly  for  their  enthusiasm.  "  You  desire  to  conquer 
France,"  said  he ;  "  you  are  right.  Give  me  then  for  that 
purpose  the  sixth  part  of  your  property ;  that  is  a  trifle  to 
gratify  so  noble  an  inclination."  England  did  not  think  so ; 
this  illegal  demand  aroused  universal  complaint.  "  We  are 
English  and  not  French,  freemen  and  not  slaves,"*  was  the 
universal  cry.  Henry  might  tyrannize  over  his  court,  but 
not  lay  hands  on  his  subjects'  property. 

The  eastern  counties  rose  in  insurrection :  four  thousand 
men  were  under  arms  in  a  moment;  and  Henry  was 
guarded  in  his  own  palace  by  only  a  few  servants.  It  was 
necessary  to  break  down  the  bridges  to  stop  the  insurgents.-}- 
Thc  courtiers  complained  to  the  king;  the  king  threw  the 
blame  on  the  cardinal ;  the  cardinal  laid  it  on  the  clergy, 
who  had  encouraged  him  to  impose  this  tax  by  quoting  to 
him  the  example  of  Joseph  demanding  of  the  Egyptians  the 
fifth  part  of  their  goods ;  and  the  clergy  in  their  turn  ascribed 
the  insurrection  to  the  gospellers,  who  (said  they)  were  stir- 
ring up  a  peasant  war  in  England,  as  they  had  done  in  Ger- 
many. Reformation  produces  revolution :  this  is  the  favourite 
text  of  the  followers  of  the  pope.  Violent  hands  must  be  laid 
upon  the  heretics.  Non  pluit  Dens,  due  ad  christianos.$ 

The  charge  of  the  priests  was  absurd ;  but  the  people  are 
blind  whenever  the  gospel  is  concerned,  and  occasionally  the 
governors  are  blind  also.  Serious  reasoning  was  not  neces- 
sary to  confute  this  invention.  "  Here,  by  the  way,  I  will 
tell  you  a  merry  toy,"  said  Latimer  one  day  in  the  pulpit. 
"  Master  More  was  once  sent  in  commission  into  Kent  to 

*  Hall's  Chronicle,  p.  69G.  If  men  should  give  their  goods  by  a  com- 
mission, then  were  it  worse  than  the  taxes  of  France  ;  and  so  England 
would  be  bond  and  not  free.  +  Ibid. 

J  "God  sends  no  rain lead  us  against  the  Christians."  Aery 

Ascribed  by  Augustine  to  the  pagans  of  the  first  ages. 


236     THE  EV ANGELICAL  CHRISTIANS  AND  TENTERDEN  STEEPLE. 

help  to  try  out,  if  it  might  be,  what  was  the  cause  of  Good- 
win Sands  and  the  shelf  that  stopped  up  Sandwich  haven. 
He  calleth  the  country  afore  him,  such  as  were  thought  to 
be  men  of  experience,  and  among  others  came  in  an  old 
man  with  a  white  head,  and  one  that  was  thought  to  be 
little  less  than  one  hundred  years  old.  So  Master  More 
called  the  old  aged  man  unto  him,  and  said :  Father,  tell  me, 
if  you  can,  what  is  the  cause  of  this  great  arising  of  the 
sands  and  shelves  hereabout,  that  stop  up  Sandwich  haven  ? 
Forsooth,  Sir,  (quoth  he)  I  am  an  old  man,  for  I  am  well- 
nigh  an  hundred,  and  I  think  that  Tenterden  steeple  is  the 
cause  of  the  Goodwin  Sands.  For  I  am  an  old  man,  Sir, 
and  I  may  remember  the  building  of  Tenterden  steeple,  and 
before  that  steeple  was  in  building,  there  was  no  manner  of 
flats  or  sands."  After  relating  this  anecdote,  Latimer  slyly 
added:  "Even  so,  to  my  purpose,  is  preaching  of  God's 
word  the  cause  of  rebellion,  as  Tenterden  steeple  was  the 
cause  Sandwich  haven  is  decayed."* 

There  was  no  persecution :  there  was  something  else  to 
be  done.  Wolsey,  feeling  certain  that  Charles  had  ob- 
structed his  accession  to  the  popedom,  thought  only  in  what 
manner  he  might  take  his  revenge.  But  during  this  time 
Tyndale  also  was  pursuing  his  aim;  and  the  year  1525, 
memorable  for  the  battle  of  Pavia,  was  destined  to  be  no 
less  so  in  the  British  isles,  by  a  still  more  important  victory. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Tyndale  at  Hamburg— First  two  Gospels— Embarrassment— Tyndala 
at  Wittemberg— At  Cologne— The  New  Testament  at  Press — Sudden 
Interruption — Cochhcus  at  Cologne— Rupert's  Manuscripts — Discovery 
of  Cochlams — His  Inquiries — His  Alarm— Rincke  and  the  Senate's 
Prohibition— Consternation  and  Decision  of  Tyndale — Cochlaeus  writes 
to  England — Tyndale  ascends  the  Rhine— Prints  two  Editions  at 
Worms — Tyndale's  Prayer. 

THE  ship  which  carried  Tyndale  and  his  MSS.  cast  anchor 

at  Hamburg,  where,  since  the  year  1521,  the  gospel  had 

*  Latimer's  Sera»ns,  vol.  i.  p.  251. 


TYNDALE  AT  HAMBURCJ.  237 

counted  numerous  friends.  Encouraged  by  the  presence  of 
his  brethren,  the  Oxford  fellow  had  taken  a  quiet  lodging  in 
one  of  the  narrow  winding  streets  of  that  old  city,  and  had 
immediately  resumed  his  task.  A  secretary,  whom  he  terms 
his  "  faithful  companion,"*  aided  him  in  collating  texts ;  but 
it  was  not  long  before  this  brother,  whose  name  is  unknown 
to  us,  thinking  himself  called  to  preach  Christ  in  places 
where  He  had  as  yet  never  been  proclaimed,  left  Tyndale. 
A  former  friar-observant  of  the  Franciscan  order  at  Green- 
wich, having  abandoned  the  cloister,  and  being  at  this  time 
without  resources,  offered  his  services  to  the  Hellenist. 
William  Roye  was  one  of  those  men  (and  they  are  always 
pretty  numerous)  whom  impatience  of  the  yoke  alienates 
from  Rome  without  their  being  attracted  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  to  Christ.  Acute,  insinuating,  crafty,  and  yet  of  pleas- 
ing manners,  he  charmed  all  those  who  had  mere  casual 
relations  with  him.  Tyndale,  banished  to  the  distant  shores 
of  the  Elbe,  surrounded  by  strange  customs,  and  hearing 
only  a  foreign  tongue,  often  thought  of  England,  and  was 
impatient  that  his  country  should  enjoy  the  result  of  his 
labours  :  he  accepted  Roye's  aid.  The  Gospels  of  Matthew 
and  Mark,  translated  and  printed  at  Hamburg,  became,  it 
would  seem,  the  first  fruits  to  England  of  his  great  task. 

But  Tyndale  was  soon  overwhelmed  by  annoyances. 
Roye,  who  was  pretty  manageable  while  he  had  no  money, 
had  become  intractable  now  that  his  purse  was  less  empty.-J- 
What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  reformer  having  spent  the  ten 
pounds  he  had  brought  from  England,  could  not  satisfy  the 
demands  of  his  assistant,  pay  his  own  debts,  and  remove  to 
another  city.  He  became  still  more  sparing  and  economical. 
The  Wartburg,  in  which  Luther  had  translated  the  New 
Testament,  was  a  palace  in  comparison  with  the  lodging  in 
which  the  reformer  of  wealthy  England  endured  hunger  and 
cold,  while  toiling  day  and  night  to  give  the  gospel  to  the 
English  Christians. 

About  the  end  of  1524,  Tyndale  sent  the  two  Gospels  to 
Monmouth  ;  and  a  merchant  named  John  Collenbeke,  hav- 

*  Tyndale'lBDoctr.  Treatises,  p.  37. 
f  Anderson's  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  49. 


238  DID  TYNDALE  MEET  LUTHER? 

ing  brought  him  the  ten  pounds  he  had  left  in  the  hands  of 
his  old  patron,  lie  prepared  to  depart  immediately. 

Where  should  he  go  ?  Not  to  England ;  he  must  com- 
plete his  task  before  all  things.  Could  he  be  in  Luther's 
neighbourhood  and  not  desire  to  see  him  ?  He  needed  not 
the  Saxon  reformer  either  to  find  the  truth,  which  he  had 
already  known  at  Oxford,  or  to  undertake  the  translation  of 
the  Scriptures,  which  he  had  already  begun  in  the  vale  of 
the  Severn.  But  did  not  all  evangelical  foreigners  flock  to 
Wittemberg  ?  To  remove  all  doubt  as  to  the  interview  of 
the  reformers,  it  would  be  desirable  perhaps  to  find  some 
trace  at  Wittemberg,*  either  in  the  university  registers  or  in 
the  writings  of  the  Saxon  reformers.  Yet  several  contem- 
poraneous testimonies  seem  to  give  a  sufficient  degree  of 
probability  to  this  conference.  Foxe  tells  us :  "  He  had  an 
interview  with  Luther  and  other  learned  men  of  that  coun- 
try." •{•  This  must  have  been  in  the  spring  of  1525. 

Tyndale,  desirous. of  drawing  nearer  to  his  native  country, 
tarncd  his  eyes  towards  the  Rhine.  There  were  at  Cologne 
some  celebrated  printers  well  known  in  England,  and  among 
others  Quentel  and  the  Byrckmans.  Francis  Byrckman  had 
warehouses  in  St  Paul's  churchyard  in  London, — a  circum- 
stance that  might  facilitate  the  introduction  and  sale  of  the 
Testament  printed  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  This  provi- 
dential circumstance  decided  Tyndale  in  favour  of  Cologne, 

*  I  requested  a  German  divine  to  investigate  this  matter,  but  his  re- 
searches were  unsuccessful. 

f  Mr  Anderson,  in  his  excellent  work  (Annals  of  the  English  Bible, 
rol.  i.  p.  47)  disputes  the  interview  between  these  two  reformers,  but  his 
arguments  do  not  convince  me.  We  can  understand  how  Luther,  at  tliat 
time  busily  engaged  in  his  dispute  ^:th  Carlstadt,  does  not  mention  Tyn- 
dale's  visit  in  his  letters.  But,  besides  Foxe,  there  are  other  conternpo- 
ran°ous  authorities  in  favour  of  this  fact.  Cochlaeus,  a  German  well 
informed  on  all  the  movements  of  the  reformers,  and  whom  we  shall 
presently  see  on  Tyndale's  traces,  says  of  him  and  Roye :  "  Duo  Angli 
apostate,  gui  aliquamdiufuerant  Vuitenbergai"  (p.  123).  And  Sir  Thomas 
More,  having  said  that  Tyndale  had  gone  to  see  Luther,  Tyndale  was 
content  to  reply  :  "  When  Mr  More  saith  Tyndale  was  confederate  with 
Luther,  that  is  not  truth. '  Answer  to  Sir  Thomas  More's  Dialogue,  p. 
147  (Park.  Soc.)  He  denied  the  confederation,  but  not  the  visit.  If  Tyo- 
dale  had  not  seen  Luther,  he  would  have  beaii  more  explicit,  and  would 
probably  have  said  that  he  had  never  even  met  him. 


TYNDALE  AT  COLOGNE.  239 

and  thither  he  repaired  with  Roye  and  his  MSS.  Arrived 
in  the  gloomy  streets  of  the  city  of  Agrippina,  he  contem- 
plated its  innumerable  churches,  and  above  all  its  ancient 
cathedral  re-echoing  to  the  voices  of  its  canons,  and  was 
oppressed  with  sorrow  as  he  beheld  the  priests  and  monks 
and  mendicants  and  pilgrims  who,  from  all  parts  of  Europe, 
poured  in  to  adore  the  pretended  relics  of  the  three  wise  men 
and  of  the  eleven  thousand  virgins.  And  then  Tyndale  asked 
himself  whether  it  was  really  in  this  superstitious  city  that 
the  New  Testament  was  to  be  printed  in  English.  This  was 
not  all.  The  reform  movement  then  at  work  in  Germany 
had  broken  out  at  Cologne  during  the  feast  of  Whitsuntide, 
and  the  archbishop  had  just  forbidden  all  evangelical  wor- 
ship. Yet  Tyndale  persevered,  and  submitting  to  the  most 
minute  precautions,  not  to  compromise  his  work,  he  took  an 
obscure  lodging  where  he  kept  himself  closely  hidden. 

Soon  however,  trusting  in  God,  he  called  on  the  printer, 
presented  his  manuscripts  to  him,  ordered  six  thousand 
copies,  and  then,  upon  reflection,  sank  down  to  three  thousand 
for  fear  of  a  seizure.*  The  printing  went  on ;  one  sheet  fol- 
lowed another ;  gradually  the  gospel  unfolded  its  mysteries 
in  the  English  tongue,  and  Tyndale  could  not  contain  him- 
self for  very  joy.-J-  He  saw  in  his  mind's  eye  the  triumph? 
of  the  Scriptures  over  all  the  kingdom,  and  exclaimed  with 
transport :  "  Whether  the  king  wills  it  or  not,  erelong  all  the 
people  of  England,  enlightened  by  the  New  Testament,  will 
obey  the  gospel."  \ 

But  on  a  sudden  that  sun  whose  earliest  beams  he  had 
hailed  with  songs  of  joy,  was  hidden  by  thick  clouds.  One 
day,  just  as  the  tenth  sheet  had  been  thrown  off,  the  printei 
hastened  to  Tyndale,  and  informed  him  that  the  senate  ol 
Cologne  forbade  him  to  continue  the  work.  Everything  was 
discovered  then.  No  doubt  Henry  VIII.,  who  has  burnt 
Luther's  books,  wishes  to  burn  the  New  Testament  also,  to 
destroy  Tyndale's  manuscripts,  and  deliver  him  up  to  death. 
Who  had  betrayed  him  ?  He  was  lost  in  unavailing  corijec- 

*  Sex  millia  sub  przelum  dari.    Cochlaeus,  p.  123. 

f  Tanta  ex  ea  spe  lactitia  Lutheranos  invasit.    Ibid.  p.  124. 

J  Cunctos  Angliao  populos,  volente  nolente  rege.   Ibid.  p.  123. 


240  COCHL2EUS  AT  COLOGNE. 

tures,  and  one  thing  only  appeared  certain :  alas  I  his  vessel, 
which  was  moving  onwards  in  full  sail,  had  struck  upon  a 
reef!  The  following  is  the  explanation  of  this  unexpected 
incident. 

A  man  whom  we  have  often  met  with  in  the  course  of 
this  history,*  one  of  the  most  violent  enemies  of  the  Refor- 
mation— we  mean  Cochlseus — had  arrived  in  Cologne.  The 
wave  of  popular  agitation  which  iad  stirred  this  city  during 
the  Whitsuntide  holidays,  had  previously  swept  over  Frank- 
fort during  the  festival  of  Easter ;  and  the  dean  of  Notre- 
Dame,  taking  advantage  of  a  moment  when  the  gates  of  the 
city  were  open,  had  escaped  a  few  minutes  before  the 
burghers  entered  his  house  to  arrest  him.  On  arriving  at 
Cologne,  where  he  hoped  to  live  unknown  under  the  shadow 
of  the  powerful  elector,  he  had  gone  to  lodge  with  George 
Lauer,  a  canon  in  the  church  of  the  Apostles. 

By  a  singular  destiny  the  two  most  opposite  men,  Tyn- 
dale  and  Cochlseus,  were  in  hiding  in  the  same  city ;  they 
could  not  long  remain  there  without  coming  into  collision. 

On  the  right  bank  of  the  Rhine,  and  opposite  Cologne, 
stood  the  monastery  of  Deutz,  one  of  whose  abbots,  Rupert, 
who  lived  in  the  twelfth  century,  had  said :  "  To  be  ignorant 
of  Scripture  is  to  be  ignorant  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  the 
scripture  of  nations  !  -j-  This  book  of  God,  which  is  not 
pompous  in  words  and  poor  in  meaning  like  Plato,  ought  to 
be  set  before  every  people,  and  to  proclaim  aloud  to  the 
whole  world  the  salvation  of  all."  One  day,  when  Cochlseus 
and  his  host  were  talking  of  Rupert,  the  canon  informed  the 
dean  that  the  heretic  Osiander  of  Nuremberg  was  in  treaty 
with  the  abbot  of  Deutz  about  publishing  the  writings  of 
this  ancient  doctor.  Cochlseus  guessed  that  Osiander  was 
desirous  of  bringing  forward  the  contemporary  of  St  Ber- 
nard as  a  witness  in  defence  of  the  Reformation.  Hastening 
to  the  monastery  he  alarmed  the  abbot :  "  Intrust  to  me  the 
manuscripts  of  your  celebrated  predecessor,"  he  said ;  "  I 
will  undertake  to  print  them  and  prove  that  he  was  one  of 
us."  The  monks  placed  them  in  his  hands,  stipulating  for 

*  Book  ix.  chapter  zii.  etc. 

f  Scripture  populorum.    Opp.  i.  p.  641. 


COCHL-fiDa'3  DISCOVERY.  241 

an  early  publication,  from  which  they  expected  no  little  re- 
nown.* Cochlaeus  immediately  went  to  Peter  Quentel  and 
Arnold  Byrckman  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements. 
They  were  Tyndale's  printers. 

There  Cochlaeus  made  a  more  important  discovery  thau 
that  of  Rupert's  manuscripts.  Byrckman  and  Quentel  hav- 
ing invited  him  one  day  to  meet  several  of  their  colleagues 
at  dinner,  a  printer,  somewhat  elevated  by  wine,  declared  in 
his  cups  (to  borrow  the  words  of  Cochlaeus) :  f  "  Whether 
the  king  and  the  cardinal  of  York  wish  it  or  not,  all  Eng- 
land will  soon  be  Lutheran."  J  Cochlaeus  listened  and  grew 
alarmed ;  he  made  inquiry,  and  was  informed  that  two  Eng- 
lishmen, learned  men  and  skilled  in  the  languages,  were 
concealed  at  Cologne.f  But  all  his  efforts  to  discover  more 
proved  unavailing. 

There  was  no  more  repose  for  the  dean  of  Frankfort ;  his 
imagination  fermented,  his  mind  became  alarmed.  "  What," 
said  he,  "  shall  England,  that  faithful  servant  of  the  pope- 
dom,  be  perverted  like  Germany  ?  Shall  the  English,  the 
most  religious  people  of  Christendom,!)  and  whose  king  once 
ennobled  himself  by  writing  against  Luther, — shall  they  be 

invaded  by  heresy? Shall  the  mighty  cardinal-legate  of 

York  be  compelled  to  flee  from  his  palace,  as  I  was  from 
Frankfort?"  Cochlaeus  continued  his  search;  he  paid  fre- 
quent visits  to  the  printers,  spoke  to  them  in  a  friendly 
tone,  flattered  them,  invited  them  to  visit  him  at  the  canon's  ; 
but  as  yet  he  dared  not  hazard  the  important  question  ;  it 
was  sufficient  for  the  moment  to  have  won  the  good  graces 
of  the  depositaries  of  the  secret.  He  soon  took  a  new  step ; 
he  was  careful  not  to  question  them  before  one  another; 
but  he  procured  a  private  interview  with  one  of  them,^[  and 
supplied  him  plentifully  with  Rhine  wine  : — he  himself  is 

*  Cum  monachi  quieturi  non  erant,  nisi  edecentur  open  ills.  Cochl. 
p.  124. 

t  Audi vit  eos  aliquando  inter  pocula  fiducialiter  jactitare.    Ibid.  p.  125. 

J  Velint  nolint  rex  et  cardinalis  Angliae,  totam  Angliam  brevi  fora 
Lutheranam.  Ibid. 

§  Duos  ibi  latitare  Anglos  eruditos,  linguarumquo  peritos.    Ibid. 

||  In  gente  ilia  religiosissima  vereque  Christiana.    Ibid.  p.  131. 

*JT  Unua  eorum  in  secretion  colloqnio  revelavit  illi  arcanum.  Ibid. 

11*  L 


242  THE  SECRET  BETRAYED. 

our  informant.*  Artful  questions  embarrassed  the  unwary 
printer,  and  at  last  the  secret  was  disclosed.  "  The  New 
Testament,"  Cochlseus  learnt,  "  is  translated  into  English ; 
three  thousand  copies  are  in  the  press ;  fourscore  pages  in 
quarto  are  ready ;  the  expense  is  fully  supplied  by  English 
merchants,  who  are  secretly  to  convey  the  work  when 
printed,  and  to  disperse  it  widely  through  all  England,  be- 
fore the  king  or  the  cardinal  can  discover  or  prohibit  it.-j- 
Thus  will  Britain  be  converted  to  the  opinions  of  Lu- 
ther." t 

The  surprise  of  Cochlaeus  equalled  his  alarm  ;§  he  dis- 
sembled ;  he  wished  to  learn,  however,  where  the  two  Eng- 
lishmen lay  concealed ;  but  all  his  exertions  proved  ineffec- 
tual, and  he  returned  to  his  lodgings  filled  with  emotion. 
The  danger  was  very  great.  A  stranger  and  an  exile,  what 
can  he  do  to  oppose  this  impious  undertaking?  Where 
shall  he  find  a  friend  to  England,  prepared  to  show  hif  zeal 
in  warding  off  the  threatened  blow? He  was  bewildered. 

A  flash  of  light  suddenly  dispelled  the  darkness.  A  per- 
son of  some  consequence  at  Cologne,  Herman  Rincke,  a 
patrician  and  imperial  councillor,  had  been  sent  on  import- 
ant business  by  the  Emperor  Maximilian  to  Henry  VII., 
and  from  that  time  he  had  always  shown  a  great  attach- 
ment to  England.  Cochlseus  determined  to  reveal  the  fatal 
secret  to  him ;  but,  being  still  alarmed  by  the  scenes  at 
Frankfort,  he  was  afraid  to  conspire  openly  against  the  Re- 
formation. He  had  left  an  aged  mother  and  a  little  niece  at 
home,  and  was  unwilling  to  do  anything  which  might 
compromise  them.  He  therefore  crept  stealthily  towards 
Rincke's  house  (as  he  tells  us  himself),||  slipped  in  secretly, 
and  unfolded  the  whole  matter  to  him.  Rincke  could  not 
believe  that  the  New  Testament  in  English  was  printing  at 
Cologne;  however,  he  sent  a  confidential  person  to  make 

*  Rem  omnem  ut  acceperat  vini  beneficio.    Cochlseus,  p.  13.. 
•f-  Opus  excussum  clam  invecturi  per  totam  Angliam  latenter  diaper- 
gerc  vellent.    Ibid, 

J  Ad  Lutheri  partes  trahenda  est  Anglia.    Ibid. 
§  Metu  et  admiratione  affectus.    Ibid. 
||  Abiit  igitur  clam  ad  H.  Rineke.    Ibid. 


TYNDALE  RESCUES  HIS  WORK.  243 

inquiries,  who  reported  to  him  that  Cochlseus's  information 
was  correct,  and  that  he  had  found  in  the  printing  office  a 
large  supply  of  paper  intended  for  the  edition.*  The  patri- 
cian immediately  proceeded  to  the  senate,  and  spoke  of 
Wolsey,  of  Henry  VIIL,  and  of  the  preservation  of  the 
Romish  church  in  England ;  and  that  body  which,  under  the 
influence  of  the  archbishop,  had  long  since  forgotten  the 
rights  of  liberty,  forbade  the  printer  to  continue  the  work. 
Thus,  then,  there  were  to  be  no  New  Testaments  for  Eng- 
land !  A  practised  hand  had  warded  off  the  blow  aimed  at 
Roman-catholicism ;  Tyndale  would  perhaps  be  thrown  into 
prison,  and  Cochlaeus  enjoy  a  complete  triumph. 

Tyndale  was  at  first  confounded.  Were  so  many  years 
of  toil  lost,  then,  for  ever?  His  trial  seemed  beyond  his 
strength.-}-  "  They  are  ravening  wolves,"  he  exclaimed, 
"  they  preach  to  others,  Steal  not,  and  yet  they  have  robbed 
the  sftul  of  man  of  the  bread  of  life,  and  fed  her  with  the 
shales  [shells  ?]  and  cods  of  the  hope  in  their  merits  and 
confidencein  their  good  works."  J  Yet  Tyndale  did  not  long 
remain  cast  down;  for  his  faith  was  of  that  kind  which 
would  remove  mountains.  Is  it  not  the  word  of  God  that 
is  imperilled  ?  If  he  does  not  abandon  himself,  God  will  not 
abandon  him.  He  must  anticipate  the  senate  of  Cologne. 
Daring  and  prompt  in  all  his  movements,  Tyndale  bade 
Roye  follow  him,  hastened  to  the  printing  office,  collected 
(he  sheets,  jumped  into  a  boat,  and  rapidly  ascended  the 
river,  carrying  with  him  the  hope  of  England.§ 

When  Cochlaeus  and  Rincke,  accompanied  by  the  officers 
of  the  senate,  reached  the  printing  office,  they  were  sur- 
prised beyond  measure.  The  apostate  had  secured  the 

abominable  papers! Their  enemy  had  escaped  like  a 

bird  from  the  net  of  the  fowler.  Where  was  he  to  be  found 
now  ?  He  would  no  doubt  go  and  place  himself  under  the 

*  Ingentem  papyri  copiam  ibi  existere.    Cochlaeus,  p.  131. 

f  Necessity  and  combrance  (God  is  record)  above  strength.  Tynd. 
Doctr.  Tr.  p.  390. 

J  Tyndale,  Expositions,  p.  123  (Parker  Society). 

§  Arreptis  sccnm  quaternionibus  impressis  aufugerunt  navigio  per 
Rhenum  aeoendentea.  Ooohl.  p.  126. 


244  COCHL-SIUS  WRITES  TO  HENRT. 

protection  of  some  Lutheran  prince,  whither  Cochlscus  would 
take  good  care  not  to  pursue  him ;  but  there  was  one  re- 
source left.  These  English  books  can  do  no  harm  in  Ger- 
many ;  they  must  be  prevented  reaching  London.  He  wrote 
to  Henry  VIII.,  to  Wolsey,  and  to  the  bishop  of  Rochester. 
"  Two  Englishmen,"  said  he  to  the  king,  "  like  the  two 
eunuchs  who  desired  to  lay  hands  on  Ahasuerus,  are  plot- 
ting wickedly  against  the  peace  of  your  kingdom ;  but  I, 
like  the  faithful  Mordecai,*  will  lay  open  their  designs  to 
you.  They  wish  to  send  the  New  Testament  in  English  to 
your  people.  Give  orders  at  every  seaport  to  prevent  the 
introduction  of  this  most  baneful  merchandise." f  Such  was 
the  name  given  by  this  zealous  follower  of  the  pope  to  the 
word  of  God.  An  unexpected  ally  soon  restored  peace  to 
the  soul  of  Cochlseus.  The  celebrated  Dr  Eck,  a  champion 
of  popery  far  more  formidable  than  he  was,  had  arrived  at 
Cologne  on  his  way  to  London,  and  he  undertook  to  arouse 
the  anger  of  the  bishops  and  of  the  king.  \  The  eyes  of  the 
greatest  opponents  of  the  Reformation  seemed  now  to  be 
fixed  on  England.  Eck,  who  boasted  of  having  gained  the 
most  signal  triumphs  over  Luther,  would  easily  get  the  bet- 
ter of  the  humble  tutor  and  his  New  Testament. 

During  this  time  Tyndale,  guarding  his  precious  bales, 
ascended  the  rapid  river  as  quickly  as  he  could.  He  passed  be- 
fore the  antique  cities  and  the  smiling  villages  scattered  along 
the  banks  of  the  Rhine  amidst  scenes  of  picturesque  beauty. 
The  mountains,  glens,  and  rocks,  the  dark  forests,  the  ruined 
fortresses,  the  gothic  churches,  the  boats  that  passed  and 
repassed  each  other,  the  birds  of  prey  that  soared  over  his 
head,  as  if  they  bore  a  mission  from  Cochlaeus — nothing 
could  turn  his  eyes  from  the  treasure  he  was  carrying  with 
him.  At  last,  after  a  voyage  of  five  or  six  days,  he  reached 
Worms,  where  Luther,  four  years  before,  had  exclaimed : 
"Here  I  stand,  I  can  do  no  other;  may  God  help  me!"§ 

*  He  was  indebted  to  me  no  less  than  Ahasuerus  was  indebted  to  Mor- 
decai. Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  61. 

t  Ut  quam  diligentissime  prsecaverint  in  omnibus  Angliae  portubus, 
ne  merx  ilia  perniciosissima  inveheretur.  Cochlaeus,  p.  126. 

J  Ad  quern  Doctor  Eckius  venit,  dum  in  Angliam  teoderet.  Ibid.  p.  109. 

§  See  above,  book  rii  chapter  viii. 


TTKDALE  ABRFVES  AT  WORMS.  245 

These  words  of  the  German  reformer,  so  well  known  to 
Tyndale,  were  the  star  that  had  guided  him  to  Worms. 
He  knew  that  the  gospel  was  preached  in  that  ancient  city. 
"  The  citizens  are  subject  to  fits  of  Lutheranism,"  said  Coch- 
laeus.*  Tyndale  arrived  there,  not  as  Luther  did,  sur- 
rounded by  an  immense  crowd,  but  unknown,  and  imagin- 
ing himself  pursued  by  the  myrmidons  of  Charles  and  of 
Henry.  As  he  landed  from  the  boat  he  cast  an  uneasy 
glance  around  him,  and  laid  down  his  precious  burden  on 
the  bank  of  the  river. 

He  had  had  time  to  reflect  on  the  dangers  which  threatened 
his  work.  As  his  enemies  would  have  marked  the  edition, 
some  few  sheets  of  it  having  fallen  into  their  hands,  he 
took  steps  to  mislead  the  inquisitors,  and  began  a  new  edi- 
tion, striking  out  the  prologue  and  the  notes,  and  substitut- 
ing the  more  portable  octavo  form  for  the  original  quarto. 
Peter  Schoeffer,  the  grandson  of  Fust,  one  of  the  inventors  of 
printing,  lent  his  presses  for  this  important  work.  The  two 
editions  were  quietly  completed  about  the  end  of  the  year 

1525.  f 

Thus  were  the  wicked  deceived:  they  would  have  de- 
prived the  English  people  of  the  oracles  of  God,  and  two 
editions  were  now  ready  to  enter  England.  "  Give  dili- 
gence," said  Tyndale  to  his  fellow-countrymen,  as  he  sent 
from  Worms  the  Testament  he  had  just  translated,  "  unto 
the  words  of  eternal  life,  by  the  which,  if  we  repent  and 
believe  them,  we  are  born  anew,  created  afresh,  and  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  the  blood  of  Christ."  J  In  the  beginning  of 

1526,  these  books  crossed  the  sea  by  way  of  Antwerp  or 
Rotterdam.     Tyndale  was  happy;  but  he  knew  that  the 
unction  of  the  Holy  Ghost  alone  could  enable  the  people  of 
England  to  understand  these  sacred  pages ;  and  accord- 
ingly he  followed  them  night  and  day  with  his  prayers. 

*  Ascendentes  Wormatiam  nbi  plebs  pleno  furore  lutherisabat.  Coch- 
Ireus,  p.  126. 

+  A  copy  of  the  octavo  edition  exists  in  the  Museum  of  the  Baptist  Col- 
lege at  Bristol.  If  it  is  compared  with  the  quarto  edition,  a  sensible  pro- 
gress will  be  found  in  the  orthography.  Thus  we  read  in  the  latter  ; 
prophettes,  synners,  moostt,  tekynge  ;  in  the  octavo  we  find,  prophets,  sin- 
ners, west,  teking.  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  70.  £  Epiat.  in  init. 


246  TYNDALE'S  PRAYER. 

"  The  scribes  and  pharisees,"  said  he,  "  had  thrust  up  the 
sword  of  the  word  of  God  in  a  scabbard  or  sheath  of  glosses, 
and  therein  had  knit  it  fast,  so  that  it  could  neither  stick  nor 
cut.*  Now,  0  God,  draw  this  sharp  sword  from  the  scab- 
bard. Strike,  wound,  cut  asunder,  the  soul  and  the  flesh,  so 
that  man  being  divided  in  two,  and  set  at  variance  with 
himself,  may  be  in  peace  with  thee  to  aU  eternity!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Worms  and  Cambridge — St  Paul  resuscitated — Latimer's  Preaching — 
Never  Man  spake  like  this  Man— Joy  and  Vexation  at  Cambridge — 
Sermon  by  Prior  Buckingham— Irony — Latimer's  Reply  to  Bucking- 
ham— The  Students  threatened— Latimer  preaches  before  the  Bishop — 
He  is  forbidden  to  preach — The  most  zealous  of  Bishops — Barnes  the 
Restorer  of  Letters— Bilney  undertakes  to  convert  him — Barnes  offers 
his  Pulpit  to  Latimer— Fryth's  Thirst  for  God— Christmas  Eve,  1525 — 
Storm  against  Barnes— Ferment  in  the  Colleges — Germany  at  Cam- 
bridge—Meetings at  Oxford— General  Expectation. 

WHILE  these  works  were  accomplishing  at  Cologne  and 
Worms,  others  were  going  on  at  Cambridge  and  Oxford. 
On  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  they  were  preparing  the  seed ; 
in  England  they  were  drawing  the  furrows  to  receive  it. 
The  gospel  produced  a  great  agitation  at  Cambridge.  Bil- 
ney, whom  we  may  call  the  father  of  the  English  Reforma- 
tion, since,  being  the  first  converted  by  the  New  Testament, 
he  had  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  God  the  energetic  Lati- 
mer, and  so  many  other  witnesses  of  the  truth, — Bilney  did 
not  at  that  time  put  himself  forward,  like  many  of  those  who 
had  listened  to  him :  his  vocation  was  prayer.  Timid  before 
men,  he  was  full  of  boldness  before  God,  and  day  and  night 
called  upon  him  for  souls.  But  while  he  was  kneeling  in  his 
closet,  others  were  at  work  in  the  world.  Among  these 

*  Tyndale's    Works,  ii.  p   378 ;  or  Expositions  (Matthew),  p.  131 
(Park.  Soc.) 


WORMS  AND  CAMBRIDGE ST  PAUL  REVIVED.  247 

Stafford  was  particularly  remarkable.  "  Paul  is  risen  from 
the  dead,"  said  many  as  they  heard  him.  And  in  fact  Staf- 
ford explained  with  so  much  life  the  true  meaning  of  the 
words  of  the  apostle  and  of  the  four  evangelists,  *  that  these 
holy  men,  whose  faces  had  been  so  long  hidden  under  the 
dense  traditions  of  the  schools,  -{•  reappeared  before  the  youth 
of  the  university  such  as  the  apostolic  times  had  beheld 
them.  But  it  was  not  only  their  persons  (for  that  would 
have  been  a  trifling  matter),  it  was  their  doctrine  which 
Stafford  laid  before  his  hearers.  While  the  schoolmen  of 
Cambridge  were  declaring  to  their  pupils  a  reconciliation 
which  was  not  yet  worked  out,  and  telling  them  that  pardon 
must  be  purchased  by  the  works  prescribed  by  the  church, 
Stafford  taught  that  redemption  was  accomplished,  that  the 
satisfaction  offered  by  Jesus  Christ  was  perfect;  and  he 
added,  that  popery  having  revived  the  kingdom  of  the  law, 
God,  by  the  Reformation,  was  now  reviving  the  kingdom  of 
grace.  The  Cambridge  students,  charmed  by  their  master's 
teaching,  greeted  him  with  applause,  and,  indulging  a  little 
too  far  in  their  enthusiasm,  said  to  one  another  as  they  left 
the  lecture-room :  "  Which  is  the  most  indebted  to  the 
other  ?  Stafford  to  Paul,  who  left  him  the  holy  epistles ;  or 
Paul  to  Stafford,  who  has  resuscitated  that  apostle  and  his 
holy  doctrines,  which  the  middle  ages  had  obscured?" 

Above  Bilney  and  Stafford  rose  Latimer,  who,  by  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  transfused  into  other  hearts  the 
learned  lessons  of  his  master.  \  Being  informed  of  the 
work  that  Tyndale  was  preparing,  he  maintained  from  the 
Cambridge  pulpits  that  the  Bible  ought  to  be  read  in  the 
vulgar  tongue.  §  "  The  author  of  Holy  Scripture,"  said  he, 

"is  the  Mighty  One,  the  Everlasting God  himself! 

and  this  Scripture  partakes  of  the  might  and  eternity  of  its 

*  He  set  forth  in  his  lectures  the  native  sense.  Thomas  Becon,  ii.  p. 
426. 

t  Obscured  through  the  darkness  and  mists  of  the  papists.    Ibid. 

J  A  private  instructor  to  the  rest  of  his  brethren  within  the  university. 
Foxe,  'Acts,  vii.  p.  438. 

§  He  proved  in  his  sermons  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  ought  to  be  read 
in  the  English  tongue  of  all  Christian  people.  Becon,  vol.  ii.  p.  421 
(Park.  Soo.) 


248  LATIMER  S  PREACHING. 

author.  There  is  neither  king  nor  emperor  that  is  not 
bound  to  obey  it.  Let  us  beware  of  those  bypaths  of  human 
tradition,  filled  of  stones,  brambles,  and  uprooted  trees.  Let 
us  follow  the  stiaight  road  of  the  word.  It  does  not  concern 
us  what  the  Fathers  have  done,  but  what  they  should  have 
done."* 

A  numerous  congregation  crowded  to  Latimer's  preaching, 
and  his  hearers  hung  listening  to  his  lips.  One  in  particu- 
lar attracted  attention.  He  was  a  Norfolk  youth,  sixteen 
years  of  age,  whose  features  were  lighted  up  with  under- 
standing and  piety.  .This  poor  scholar  had  received  with 
eagerness  the  truth  announced  by  the  former  cross-bearer. 
He  did  not  miss  one  of  his  sermons ;  with  a  sheet  of  paper 
on  his  knees,  and  a  pencil  in  his  hand,  he  took  down  part  of 
the  discourse,  trusting  the  remainder  to  his  memory,  -j-  This 
was  Thomas  Becon,  afterwards  chaplain  to  Cranmer,  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury.  "  If  I  possess  the  knowledge  of  God,'' 
said  he,  "  I  owe  it  (under  God)  to  Latimer." 

Latimer  had  hearers  of  many  sorts.  By  the  side  of  those 
who  gave  way  to  their  enthusiasm  stood  men  "  swelling, 
blown  full,  and  puffed  up  like  unto  Esop's  frog,  with  envy 
and  malice  against  him,"  said  Becon ;  J  these  were  the  parti- 
sans of  traditional  Catholicism,  whom  curiosity  had  attracted, 
or  whom  their  evangelical  friends  had  dragged  to  the  church. 
But  as  Latimer  spoke,  a  marvellous  transformation  was 
worked  in  them;  by  degrees  their  angry  features  relaxed, 
their  fierce  looks  grew  softer;  and,  if  these  friends  of  the 
priests  were  asked,  after  their  return  home,  what  they  thought 
of  the  heretic  preacher,  they  replied,  in  the  exaggeration  of 
their  surprise  and  rapture :  "  Nunquam  sic  locutus  est  homoj 
sicut  hie  homo  I "  (John  vii.  46.) 

When  he  descended  from  the  pulpit,  Latimer  hastened  to 
practise  what  he  had  taught.  He  visited  the  narrow  cham- 
bers of  the  poor  scholars,  and  the  dark  rooms  of  the  working 
classes :  "  he  watered  with  good  deeds  whatsoever  he  had 

*  We  find  his  opinions  upon  that  subject  in  a  later  sermon.  Latimer's 
Sermons,  p.  9R,  97  (Park.  Soc.) 

t  A  poor  scholar  of  Cambridge but  a  child  of  sixteen  years.  Be- 

ton'i  Works,  u.  p.  424.,  £  Ibid.  p.  425. 


JOT  AND  ANGER  AT  CAMBRIDGE.  249 

before  planted  with  godly  words,"*  said  the  student  who 
collected  his  discourses.  The  disciples  conversed  together 
with  joy  and  simplicity  of  heart ;  everywhere  the  breath  of 
a  new  life  was  felt;  as  yet  no  external  reforms  had  been 
effected,  and  yet  the  spiritual  church  of  the  gospel  and  of 
the  Reformation  was  already  there.  And  thus  the  recollec- 
tion of  these  happy  times  was  long  commemorated  in  the 
adage : 

When  Master  Stafford  read, 

And  Master  Latimer  preached, 

Then  was  Cambridge  blessed.f 

The  priests  could  not  remain  inactive :  they  heard  speak 
of  grace  and  liberty,  and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
either.  If  grace  is  tolerated,  will  it  not  take  from  the  hands 
of  the  clergy  the  manipulation  of  salvation,  indulgences, 
penance,  and  all  the  rubrics  of  the  canon  law  ?  If  liberty  is 
conceded,  will  not  the  hierarchy,  with  all  its  degrees,  pomps, 
violence,  and  scaffolds,  be  shaken?  Rome  desires  no  other 
liberty  than  that  of  free-will,  which,  exalting  the  natural 
strength  of  fallen  man,  dries  up  as  regards  mankind  the 
springs  of  divine  life,  withers  Christianity,  and  changes  that 
heavenly  religion  into  a  human  moralism  and  legal  obser- 
vances. 

The  friends  of  popery,  therefore,  collected  their  forces  to 
oppose  the  new  religion.  "  Satan,  who  never  sleeps,"  says 
the  simple  chronicler,  "  called  up  his  familiar  spirits,  and 
sent  them  forth  against  the  reformers."  Meetings  were  held 
in  the  convents,  but  particularly  in  that  belonging  to  the 
Greyfriars.  They  mustered  all  their  forces.  An  eye  for  an 
eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  said  they.  Latimer  extols  in  his 
sermons  the  blessings  of  Scripture ;  we  must  deliver  a  ser- 
mon also  to  show  its  dangers.  But  where  was  the  orator  to 
be  found  who  could  cope  with  him  ?  This  was  a  very  em- 
barrassing question  to  the  clerical  party.  Among  the  Grey- 
friars  there  was  a  haughty  monk,  adroit  and  skilful  in  little 
matters,  and  full  at  once  of  ignorance  and  pride :  it  was  the 
prior  Buckingham.  No  one  had  shown  more  hatred  against 
the  evangelical  Christians,  and  no  one  was  in  truth  a  greater 
•  Becon's  Works,  ii.  p.  425.  f  Ibid. 

L2 


250  THE  PRIOR'S  SERMON. 

stranger  to  the  gospel.  This  was  the  man  commissioned  to 
set  forth  the  dangers  of  the  word  of  God.  He  was  by  no 
means  familiar  with  the  New  Testament ;  he  opened  it  how- 
ever, picked  out  a  few  passages  here  and  there  which  seemed 
to  favour  his  thesis,  and  then,  arrayed  in  his  costliest  robes, 
with  head  erect  and  solemn  step  already  sure  of  victory,  he 
went  into  the  pulpit,  combated  the  heretic,  and  with  pomp- 
ous voice  stormed  against  the  reading  of  the  Bible  ;*  it  was 
in  his  eyes  the  fountain  of  all  heresies  and  misfortunes.  "  If 
that  heresy  should  prevail,"  he  exclaimed,  "  there  will  be  an 
end  of  everything  useful  among  us.  The  ploughman,  read- 
ing in  the  gospel  that  no  man  having  put  his  hand  to  the 

plough  should  look  back,  would  soon  lay  aside  his  labour 

The  baker,  reading  that  a  little  leaven  leaveneth  the  whole 
lump,  will  in  future  make  us  nothing  but  very  insipid  bread ; 
and  the  simple  man  finding  himself  commanded  to  pluck  out 
the  right  eye  and  cast  it  from  thee,  England,  after  a  few  years, 
will  be  a  frightful  spectacle ;  it  will  be  little  better  than  a 
nation  of  blind  and  one-eyed  men,  sadly  begging  their  bread 
from  door  to  door."-J- 

This  discourse  moved  that  part  of  the  audience  for  which 
it  was  intended.  "  The  heretic  is  silenced,"  said  the  monks 
and  clerks;  but  sensible  people  smiled,  and  Latimer  was. 
delighted  that  they  had  given  him  such  an  adversary.  Being 
of  a  lively  disposition  and  inclined  to  irony,  he  resolved  to  lash 
the  platitudes  of  the  pompous  friar.  There  are  some  ab- 
surdities, he  thought,  which  can  only  be  refuted  by  showing 
how  foolish  they  are.  Does  not  even  the  grave  Tertullian 
speak  of  things  which  are  only  to  be  laughed  at,  for  fear  of 
giving  them  importance  by  a  serious  refutation  ?  J  "  Next 
Sunday  I  will  reply  to  him,"  said  Latimer. 

The  church  was  crowded  when  Buckingham,  with  the 
hood  of  St  Francis  on  his  shoulders  and  with  a  vain-glorious 
air,  took  his  place  solemnly  in  front  of  the  preacher.  Lati- 

*  With  great  pomp  and  prolixity.    Gilpin's  Life  of  Latimer,  p.  8. 

f  The  nation  full  of  blind  beggars.    Ibid. 

J  Si  et  ridebitur  alicubi  materiis  ipsis  satisfiet,  Multa  sunt  sic  digna. 
revinci,  ne  gravitate  adorentur.  Contra  Valentin  :  vi.  See  also  Pascal's 
Provincials,  Letter  xi. 


LATIMER'S  REPLY.  251 

mer  began  by  recapitulating  the  least  weak  of  his  adver- 
sary's arguments ;  then  taking  them  up  one  by  one,  he 
turned  them  over  and  over,  and  pointed  out  all  their  ab- 
surdity with  so  much  wit  that  the  poor  prior  was  buried  in 
his  own  nonsense.  Then  turning  towards  the  listening 
crowd,  he  exclaimed  with  warmth  :  "  This  is  how  your  skil- 
ful guides  abuse  your  understanding.  They  look  upon  you 
as  children  that  must  be  for  ever  kept  in  leading-strings. 
Now,  the  hour  of  your  majority  has  arrived ;  boldly  examine 
the  Scriptures,  and  you  will  easily  discover  the  absurdity  of 
the  teaching  of  your  doctors."  And  then  desirous,  as  Solo- 
mon has  it,  of  answering  a  fool  according  to  his  folly,  he 
added :  "  As  for  the  comparisons  drawn  from  the  plough, 
the  leaven,  and  the  eye,  of  which  the  reverend  prior  has 
made  so  singular  a  use,  is  it  necessary  to  justify  these 
passages  of  Scripture  ?  Must  I  tell  you  what  plough,  what 
leaven,  what  eye  is  here  meant  ?  Is  not  our  Lord's  teaching 
distinguished  by  those  expressions  which,  under  a  popular 
form,  conceal  a  spiritual  and  profound  meaning  ?  Do  not 
we  know  that  in  all  languages  and  in  all  speeches,  it  is  not 
on  the  image  that  we  must  fix  our  eyes,  but  on  the  thing 

which  the  image  represents? For  instance,"  he  continued, 

and  as  he  said  these  words  he  cast  a  piercing  glance  on  the 
prior,  "  if  we  see  a  fox  painted  preaching  in  a  friar's  hood, 
nobody  imagines  that  a  fox  is  meant,  but  that  craft  and 
hypocrisy  are  described,  which  are  so  often  found  disguised 
in  that  garb."*  At  these  words  the  poor  prior,  on  whom 
the  eyes  of  all  the  congregation  were  turned,  rose  and  left 
the  church  hastily,  and  ran  off  to  his  convent  to  hide  his 
rage  and  confusion  among  his  brethren.  The  monks  and 
their  creatures  uttered  loud  cries  against  Latimer.  It  was 
unpardonable  (they  said)  to  have  been  thus  wanting  in 
respect  to  the  cowl  of  St  Francis.  But  his  friends  replied : 
"  Do  we  not  whip  children?  and  he  who  treats  Scripture 
worse  than  a  child,  does  he  not  deserve  to  be  well  flogged?" 
The  Romish  party  did  not  consider  themselves  beaten. 
The  heads  of  colleges  and  the  priests  held  frequent  con- 
ferences. The  professors  were  desired  to  watch  carefully 
*  Gilpin's  Life  of  Latimer,  p.  10. 


252  THE  STUDENTS  THREATENED. 

over  their  pupils,  and  to  lead  them  back  to  the  teaching  of 
the  church  by  flattery  and  by  threats.  "  We  are  putting 
our  lance  in  rest,"  they  told  the  students ;  "  if  you  become 
evangelicals,  your  advancement  is  at  an  end."  But  these 
open-hearted  generous  youths  loved  rather  to  be  poor  with 
Christ,  than  rich  with  the  priests.  Stafford  continued  to 
teach,  Latimer  to  preach,  and  Bilney  to  visit  the  poor :  the 
doctrine  of  Christ  ceased  not  to  be  spread  abroad,  and  souls 
to  be  converted. 

One  weapon  only  was  left  to  the  schoolmen ;  this  was 
persecution,  the  favourite  arm  of  Rome.  "  Our  enterprise 
has  not  succeeded,"  said  they ;  "  Buckingham  is  a  fool. 
The  best  way  of  answering  these  gospellers  is  to  prevent 
their  speaking."  Dr  West,  bishop  of  Ely,  was  ordinary  of 
Cambridge ;  they  called  for  his  intervention,  and  he  ordered 
one  of  the  doctors  to  inform  him  the  next  time  Latimer 
was  to  preach ;  "  but,"  added  he,  "  do  not  say  a  word  to  any 
one.  I  wish  to  come  without  being  expected." 

One  day  as  Latimer  was  preaching  in  Latin  ad  *lerum, 
the  bishop  suddenly  entered  the  university  church,  attended 
by  a  number  of  priests.  Latimer  stopped,  waiting  respect- 
fully until  West  and  his  train  had  taken  their  places.  "  A 
new  audience,"  thought  he;  "and  besides  an  audience  worthy 
of  greater  honour  calls  for  a  new  theme.  Leaving,  there- 
fore, the  subject  I  had  proposed,  I  will  take  up  one  that 
relates  to  the  episcopal  charge,  and  will  preach  on  these 
words  :  Christus  existens  Pontifex  futurorum  bonorum." 
(Hebrews  ix.  11.)  Then  describing  Jesus  Christ,  Latimer 
represented  him  as  the  "  true  and  perfect  pattern  unto  all 
other  bishops."*  There  was  not  a  single  virtue  pointed  out 
in  the  divine  bishop  that  did  not  correspond  with  some  de- 
fect in  the  Romish  bishops.  Latimer's  caustic  wit  had  a 
free  course  at  their  expense ;  but  there  was  so  much  gravity 
in  his  sallies,  and  so  lively  a  Christianity  in  his  descriptions, 
that  every  one  must  have  felt  them  to  be  the  cries  of  a 
Christian  conscience  rather  than  the  sarcasms  of  an  ill- 
natured  disposition.  Never  had  bishop  been  taught  by  one 
of  his  priests  like  this  man.  "  Alas ! "  said  many,  "  our 
•  Strype'f  Eccles.  Mem.  iii.  p.  369. 


LAT1MER  PREACHES  BEFORE  THE  BISHOP.  253 

bishops  are  not  of  that  breed :  they  are  descended  from 
Annas  and  Caiaphas."  West  was  not  more  at  his  ease 
than  Buckingham  had  been  formerly.  He  stifled  his  anger, 
however ;  and  after  the  sermon,  said  to  Latimer  with  a  gra- 
cious accent :  "  You  have  excellent  talents,  and  if  you  would 

do  one  thing  I  should  be  ready  to  kiss  your  feet."* 

What  humility  in  a  bishop! "  Preach  in  this  same 

church,"  continued  West,  "a  sermon against  Martin 

Luther.  That  is  the  best  way  of  checking  heresy."  Lati- 
mer understood  the  prelate's  meaning,  and  replied  calmly  : 
."  If  Luther  preaches  the  word  of  God,  I  cannot  oppose  him. 
But  if  he  teaches  the  contrary,  I  am  ready  to  attack  him." — 
"  Well,  well,  Master  Latimer,"  exclaimed  the  bishop,  "  I 

perceive  that  you  smell  somewhat  of  the  pan.-}- One  day 

or  another  you  will  repent  of  that  merchandise." 

West  having  left  Cambridge  in  great  irritation  against 
that  rebellious  clerk,  hastened  to  convoke  his  chapter,  and 
forbade  Latimer  to  preach  either  in  the  university  or  in  the 
diocese.  "  All  that  will  live  godly  shall  suffer  persecution," 
St  Paul  had  said;  Latimer  was  now  experiencing  the 
truth  of  the  saying.  It  was  not  enough  that  the  name  of 
heretic  had  been  given  him  by  the  priests  and  their  friends, 

and  that  the  passers-by  insulted  him  in  the  streets; the 

work  of  God  was  violently  checked.  "  Behold  then,"  he  ex- 
claimed with  a  bitter  sigh,  "  the  use  of  the  episcopal  office 

to  hinder  the  preaching  of  Jesus  Christ!"    Some  few 

years  later  he  sketched,  with  his  usual  caustic  irony,  the 
portrait  of  a  certain  bishop,  of  whom  Luther  also  used  fre- 
quently to  speak  :  "  Do  you  know,"  said  Latimer,  "  who  is 

the  most  diligentest  bishop  and  prelate  in  all  England  ? 

I  see  you  listening  and  hearkening  that  I  should  name  him 

I  will  tell  you It  is  the  devil.    He  is  never  out  of 

his  diocese ;  ye  shall  never  find  him  out  of  the  way  ;  call  for 
him  when  you  will,  he's  ever  at  home.  He  is  ever  at  his 
plough.  Ye  shall  never  find  him  idle,  I  warrant  you.  Where 
the  devil  is  resident — there  away  with  books  and  up  with 
candles ;  away  with  bibles  and  up  with  beads ;  away  with 

*  I  will  kneel  down  and  kiss  your  foot.    Strype's  Eccl.  Mem.  iii.  p.  369. 
t  Ibid.  p.  870. 


254  EGBERT  BARNES. 

the  light  of  the  gospel  and  up  with  the  light  of  candles,  yea 
at  noondays  ;  down  with  Christ's  cross,  up  with  purgatory 
pickpurse ;  away  with  clothing  the  naked,  the  poor,  and  im- 
potent, up  with  decking  of  images  and  gay  garnishing  of 
stocks  and  stones ;  down  with  God's  traditions  and  his  most 

holy  word Oh  !  that  our  prelates  would  be  as  diligent  to 

sow  the  corn  of  good  doctrine  as  Satan  is  to  sow  cockle  and 
darnel  !"*  Truly  may  it  be  said,  "  There  was  never  such  a 
preacher  in  England  as  he  is."f 

The  reformer  was  not  satisfied  with  merely  speaking :  he 
acted.  "  Neither  the  menacing  words  of  his  adversaries  nor 
their  cruel  imprisonments,"  says  one  of  his  contemporaries,^: 
"  could  hinder  him  from  proclaiming  God's  truth."  Forbid- 
den to  preach  in  the  churches,  he  went  about  from  house  to 
house.  He  longed  for  a  pulpit,  however,  and  this  he  ob- 
tained. A  haughty  prelate  had  in  vain  interdicted  his 
preaching;  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  above  all  bishops,  is  able, 
wlfen  one  door  is  shut,  to  open  another.  Instead  of  one  great 
preacher  there  were  soon  two  at  Cambridge. 

An  Augustine  monk  named  Robert  Barnes,  a  native  of 
the  county  of  Norfolk,  and  a  great  scholar,  had  gone  to 
Louvain  .to  prosecute  his  studies.  Here  he  received  the 
degree  of  doctor  of  divinity,  and  having  returned  to  Cam- 
bridge, was  nominated  prior  of  his  monastery  in  1523.  It  was 
his  fortune  to  reconcile  learning  and  the  gospel  in  the  uni- 
versity ;  but  by  leaning  too  much  to  learning  he  diminished  the 
force  of  the  word  of  God.  A  great  crowd  collected  every  day 
in  the  Augustine  convent  to  hear  his  lectures  upon  Terence, 
and  in  particular  upon  Cicero.  Many  of  those  who  were 
offended  by  the  simple  Christianity  of  Bilney  and  Latimer, 
were  attracted  by  this  reformer  of  another  kind.  Coleman, 
Coverdalc,  Field,  Cambridge,  Barley,  and  many  other  young 
men  of  the  university,  gathered  round  Barnes  and  proclaimed 
him  "  the  restorer  of  letters."§ 

*  Latimer's  Sermons  (Park.  Soc.)  vol.  i.  p.  70.    Sermon  of  the  Plough. 

t  Ibid.  p.  72. 

J  He  adds  :  Whatsoever  he  had  once  preached,  he  valiantly  defended 
the  same.    Becon,  vol.  h.  p.  424. 

§  The  great  restorer  of  good  learning.    Strype,  i.  p.  568  ;  Foxe,  Acts. 
T.p.415. 


HIS  LECTURES.  255 

But  the  classics  were  only  a  preparatory  teaching.  The 
masterpieces  of  antiquity  having  aided  Barnes  to  clear  the 
soil,  he  opened  before  his  class  the  epistles  of  St  Paul.  He 
did  not  understand  their  divine  depth,  like  Stafford ;  he  was 
not,  like  him,  anointed  with  the  Holy  Ghost;  he  differed 
from  him  on  several  of  the  apostle's  doctrines,  on  justifica- 
tion by  faith,  and  on  the  new  creature  ;  but  Barnes  was  an 
enlightened  and  liberal  man,  not  without  some  degree  of 
piety,  and  desirous,  like  Stafford,  of  substituting  the  teach- 
ing of  Scripture  for  the  barren  disputations  of  the  school. 
But  they  soon  came  into  collision,  and  Cambridge  long  re- 
membered that  celebrated  discussion  in  which  Barnes  and 
Stafford  contended  with  so  much  renown,  employing  no 
other  weapons  than  the  word  of  God,  to  the  great  astonish- 
ment of  the  blind  doctors,  and  the  great  joy  of  the  clear- 
sighted, says  the  chronicler.* 

Barnes  was  not  as  yet  thoroughly  enlightened,  and  the 
friends  of  the  gospel  were  astonished  that  a  man,  a  stranger 
to  the  truth,  should  deal  such  heavy  blows  against  error. 
Bilney,  whom  we  continually  meet  with  when  any  secret 
work,  a  work  of  irresistible  charity,  is  in  hand, — Bilney, 
who  had  converted  Latimer,  undertook  to  convert  Barnes  ; 
and  Stafford,  Arthur,  Thistel  of  Pembroke,  and  Fooke  of 
Benet's,  earnestly  prayed  God  to  grant  his  assistance.  The 
experiment  was  difficult :  Barnes  had  reached  that  juste 
milieu,  that  "  golden  mean"  of  the  humanists,  that  intoxica- 
tion of  learning  and  glory,  which  render  conversion  more 
difficult.  Besides,  could  a  man  like  Bilney  really  dare  to 
instruct  the  restorer  of  antiquity  ?  But  the  humble  bachelor 
of  arts,  so  simple  in  appearance,  knew,  like  David  of  old,  a 
secret  power  by  which  the  Goliath  of  the  university  might 
be  vanquished.  He  passed  days  and  nights  in  prayer ;  and 
then  urged  Barnes  openly  to  manifest  his  convictions  with- 
out fearing  the  reproaches  of  the  world.  After  many  conver- 
sations and  prayers,  Barnes  was  converted  to  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ,  f  Still,  the  prior  retained  something  undecided 

*  Marvellous  in  the  sight  of  the  great  blind  doctors.  Foxe,  Acts,  v. 
p.  415. 

t  Bilney  converted  Dr  Barnes  to  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  Foie, 
Acts,  ir.  p.  WO. 


256     BARNES  CONVERTED  BY  BILNEY — JOHN  FRYTH. 

in  his  character,  and  only  half  relinquished  thai  middle  state 
with  which  he  had  begun.  For  instance,  he  appears  to  have 
always  believed  in  the  efficacy  of  sacerdotal  consecration  to 
transform  the  bread  and  wine  into  the  body  and  blood  of 
Christ.  His  eye  was  not  single,  and  his  mind  was  often 
agitated  and  driven  to  and  fro  by  contrary  thoughts :  "  Alas !" 
said  this  divided  character  one  day,  "  I  confess  that  my  co- 
gitations be  innumerable."* 

Barnes,  having  come  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth,  im- 
mediately displayed  a  zeal  that  was  somewhat  imprudent. 
Men  of  the  least  decided  character,  and  even  those  who  are 
destined  to  make  a  signal  fall,  are  often  those  who  begin 
their  course  with  the  greatest  ardour.  Barnes  seemed  pre- 
pared at  this  time  to  withstand  all  England.  Being  now 
united  to  Latimer  by  a  tender  Christian  affection,  he  was  in- 
dignant that  the  powerful  voice  of  his  friend  should  be  lost 
to  the  church.  "  The  bishop  has  forbidden  you  to  preach,'; 
he  said  to  him,  "  but  my  monastery  is  not  under  episcopal 
hirisdiction.  You  can  preach  there."  Latimer  went  into  the 
pulpit  at  the  Augustines',  and  the  church  could  not  contain 
the  crowd  that  flocked  to  it.  At  Cambridge,  as  at  Wittem- 
berg,  the  chapel  of  the  Augustine  monks  was  used  for  the 
first  struggles  of  the  gospel.  It  was  here  that  Latimer  de- 
livered some  of  his  best  sermons. 

A  very  different  man  from  Latimer,  and  particularly  from 
Barnes,  was  daily  growing  in  influence  among  the  English 
reformers :  this  was  Fryth.  No  one  was  more  humble  than 
he,  and  on  that  very  account  no  one  was  stronger.  He  was 
less  brilliant  than  Barnes,  but  more  solid.  He  might  have 
penetrated  into  the  highest  departments  of  science,  but  he 
was  drawn  away  by  the  deep  mysteries  of  God's  word  ;  the 
call  of  conscience  prevailed  over  that  of  the  understanding.-j- 
He  did  not  devote  the  energy  of  his  soul  to  difficult  ques- 
tions ;  he  thirsted  for  God,  for  his  truth,  and  for  his  love. 
Instead  of  propagating  his  particular  opinions  and  forming 

*  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  434. 

t  Notwithstanding  his  other  manifold  and  singular  gifts  and  orna* 
ments  of  the  mind,  in  him  most  pregnant.  Tyndale  and  Frytli's  Works, 
iii.  p.  73. 


CHRISTMAS  EVE,  1525.  257 

divisions,  he  clung  only  to  the  faith  which  saves,  and  ad- 
vanced the  dominion  of  true  unity.  This  is  the  mark  of  the 
great  servants  of  God.  Humble  before  the  Lord,  mild  before 
men,  and  even  in  appearance  somewhat  timid,  Fryth  in  the 
face  of  danger  displayed  an  intrepid  courage.  "  My  learning 
is  small,"  he  said,  "  but  the  little  I  have  I  am  determined  to 
give  to  Jesus  Christ  for  the  building  of  his  temple."* 

Latimer's  sermons,  Barnes's  ardour,  and  Fryth's  firmness, 
excited  fresh  zeal  at  Cambridge.  They  knew  what  was  go- 
ing on  in  Germany  and  Switzerland;  shall  the  English,  ever 
in  front,  now  remain  in  the  rear  ?  Shall  not  Latimer,  Bil- 
ney,  Stafford,  Barnes,  and  Fryth  do  what  the  servants  of 
God  are  doing  in  other  places  ? 

A  secret  ferment  announced  an  approaching  crisis :  every 
one  expected  some  change  for  better  or  for  worse.  The 
evangelicals,  confident  in  the  truth,  and  thinking  themselves 
sure  of  victory,  resolved  to  fall  upon  the  enemy  simultane- 
ously on  several  points.  The  Sunday  before  Christmas,  in 
the  year  1525,  was  chosen  for  this  great  attack.  While 
Latimer  should  address  the  crowds  that  continued  to  fill  the 
Augustine  chapel,  and  others  were  preaching  in  other  places, 
Barnes  was  to  deliver  a  sermon  in  one  of  the  churches  in  the 
town.  But  nothing  compromises  the  gospel  so  much  as  a 
disposition  turned  towards  outward  things.  God,  who  grants 
his  blessing  only  to  undivided  hearts,  permitted  this  general 
assault,  of  which  Barnes  was  to  be  the  hero,  to  be  marked 
by  a  defeat.  The  prior,  as  he  went  into  the  pulpit,  thought 
only  of  "Wolsey.  As  the  representative  of  the  popedom  in 
England,  the  cardinal  was  the  great  obstacle  to  the  Reforma- 
tion. Barnes  preached  from  the  epistle  for  the  day :  Rejoice 
in  the  Lord  alway.-^  But  instead  of  announcing  Christ  and 
the  joy  of  the  Christian,  he  imprudently  declaimed  against 
the  luxury,  pride,  and  diversions  of  the  churchmen,  and 
everybody  understood  that  he  aimed  at  the  cardinal.  He 
described  those  magnificent  palaces,  that  brilliant  suite, 
those  scarlet  robes,  and  pearls,  and  gold,  and  precious  stones, 

*  That  is  very  small,  nevertheless  that  little.    Tyndale  and  Fryth's 
Works,  iii.  p.  83. 
t  Philippians  iv.  4-7. 

VOL.  V.  12 


258  BTOKM  AGAINST  BARNES. 

and  all  the  prelate's  ostentation,  so  little  in  keeping  (said  he) 
with  the  stable  of  Bethlehem.  Two  fellows  of  King's  Col- 
lege, Robert  Eidley  and  Walter  Preston,  relations  of  Ton- 
stall,  bishop  of  London,  who  were  intentionally  among  the 
congregation,  noted  down  in  their  tablets  the  prior's  impru- 
dent expressions. 

The  sermon  was  scarcely  over  when  the  storm  broke 
out.  "These  people  are  not  satisfied  with  propagating 
monstrous  heresies,"  exclaimed  their  enemies,  "but  they 
must  find  fault  with  the  powers  that  be.  To-day  they 
attack  the  cardinal,  to-morrow  they  will  attack  the  king!" 
Ridley  and  Preston  accused  Barnes  to  the  vice-chan- 
cellor. All  Cambridge  was  in  commotion.  What !  Barnes 
the  Augustine  prior,  the  restorer  of  letters,  accused  as 

a  Lollard! The  gospel  was  threatened  with  a  danger 

more  formidable  than  a  prison  or  a  scaffold.  The  friends  of 
the  priests,  knowing  Barnes's  weakness,  and  even  his 
vanity,  hoped  to  obtain  of  him  a  disavowal  that  would 
cover  the  evangelical  party  with  shame.  "What!"  said 
these  dangerous  counsellors  to  him,  "  the  noblest  career  was 

open  to  you,  and  would  you  close  it? Do,  pray,  explain 

away  your  sermon."  They  alarmed,  they  flattered  him ; 
and  the  poor  prior  was  near  yielding  to  their  solicitations. 
"  Next  Sunday  you  will  read  this  declaration,"  they  said  to 
him.  Barnes -ran  over  the  paper  put  into  his  hands,  and 
saw  no  great  harm  in  it.  However  he  desired  to  show  it  to 
Bilney  and  Stafford.  "  Beware  of  such  weakness,"  said 
these  faithful  men.  Barnes  then  recalled  his  promise,  and 
for  a  season  the  enemies  of  the  gospel  were  silent. 

Its  friends  worked  with  increased  energy.  The  fall  from 
which  one  of  their  companions  had  so  narrowly  escaped 
inspired  them  with  fresh  zeal.  The  more  indecision  and 
weakness  Barnes  had  shown,  the  more  did  his  brethren  flee 
to  God  for  courage  and  firmness.  It  was  reported,  more- 
over, that  a  powerful  ally  was  coming  across  the  sea,  and 
that  the  Holy  Scriptures,  translated  into  the  vulgar  tongue, 
were  at  last  to  be  given  to  the  people.  Wherever  the  word 
was  preached,  there  the  congregation  was  largest.  It  was 
the  seed-time  of  the  church :  all  were  busy  in  the  fields  to 


GERMANY  AT  CAMBRIDGE.  259 

prepare  the  soil  and  trace  the  furrows.  Seven  colleges  at 
least  were  in  full  ferment:  Pembroke,  St  John's,  Queens', 
King's,  Caius,  Benet's,  and  Peterhouse.  The  gospel  was 
preached  at  the  Augustines',  at  Saint  Mary's  (the  Univer- 
sity church,)  and  in  other  places,  and  when  the  bells  rang  to 
prayers,  the  streets  were  alive  with  students  issuing  from 
the  colleges,  and  hastening  to  the  sermon,* 

There  was  at  Cambridge  a  house  called  the  White  Horse, 
so  situated  as  to  permit  the  most  timid  members  of  King's, 
Queens',  and  St  John's  Colleges,  to  enter  at  the  rear  without 
being  perceived.  In  every  age  Nicodemus  has  had  his  fol- 
lowers. Here  those  persons  used  to  assemble  who  desired 
to  read  the  Bible  and  the  works  of  the  German  reformers. 
The  priests,  looking  upon  Wittemberg  as  the  focus  of  the 
Reformation,  named  this  house  Germany:  the  people  will 
always  have  their  bywords.  At  first  the  frequenters  of  the 
White  Horse  were  called  Sophists;  and  now,  whenever  a 
group  of  ::  fellows"  was  seen  walking  in  that  direction,  the 
cry  was,  "There  are  the  Germans  going  to  Germany." — 
"  We  are  not  Germans,"  was  the  reply,  "  neither  are  we 
Romans."  The  Greek  New  Testament  had  made  them 
Christians.  The  gospel-meetings  had  never  been  more  fer- 
vent. Some  attended  them  to  communicate  the  new  life 
they  possessed ;  others  to  receive  what  God  had  given  to 
the  more  advanced  brethren.  The  Holy  Spirit  united  them 
all,  and  thus,  by  the  fellowship  of  the  saints,  were  real 
churches  created.  To  these  young  Christians  the  word  of 
God  was  the  source  of  so  much  light,  that  they  imagined 
themselves  transported  to  that  heavenly  city  of  which  the 
Scriptures  speak,  which  had  no  need  of  the  sun,  for  the  glory 
of  God  did  lighten  it.  "  So  oft  as  I  was  in  the  company  of 
these  brethren,"  said  a  youthful  student  of  St  John's,  "  me- 
thought  I  was  quietly  placed  in  the  new  glorious  Jerusa- 
lem." f 

Similar  things  were  taking  place  at  Oxford.  In  1524  and 
1525,  Wolsey  had  successively  invited  thither  several  Cam- 
bridge fellows,  and  although  only  seeking  the  most  able,  lie 

*  Flocked  together  in  open  street.    Strype,  Mem.  i.  p.  568. 
t  Becon,  ii.  p.  42€. 


260  MEETINGS  AT  OXFORD. 

found  that  he  had  taken  some  of  the  most  pious.  Besides 
John  Clark,  there  were  Richard  Cox,  John  Fryer,  Godfrey 
Harman,  W.  Betts,  Henry  Sumner,  W.  Baily,  Michael 
Drumm,  Th.  Lawny,  and,  lastly,  the  excellent  John  Fryth. 
These  Christians,  associating  with  Clark,  with  his  faithful 
Dalaber,  and  with  other  evangelicals  of  Oxford,  held  meet- 
ings, like  their  Cambridge  brethren,  at  which  God  manifested 
his  presence.  The  bishops  made  war  upon  the  gospel ;  the 
king  supported  them  with  all  his  power ;  but  the  word  had 
gained  the  victory ;  there  was  no  longer  any  doubt.  The 
church  was  born  again  in  England. 

The  great  movement  of  the  sixteenth  century  had  begun 
more  particularly  among  the  younger  doctors  and  students 
at  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  From  them  it  was  necessary 
that  it  should  be  extended  to  the  people,  and  for  that  end 
the  New  Testament,  hitherto  read  in  Latin  and  in  Greek, 
must  be  circulated  in  English.  The  voices  of  these  youthful 
evangelists  were  heard,  indeed,  in  London  and  in  the  pro- 
vinces, but  their  exhortations  would  have  been  insufficient, 
if  the  mighty  hand  which  directs  all  things  had  not  made 
this  Christian  activity  coincide  with  that  holy  work  for 
which  it  had  set  Tyndale  apart.  While  all  was  agitation  in 
England,  the  waves  of  ocean  were  bearing  from  the  conti- 
nent to  the  banks  of  the  Thames  those  Scriptures  of  God, 
which,  three  centuries  later,  multiplied  by  thousands  and  by 
millions,  and,  translated  into  a  hundred  and  fifty  tongues, 
were  to  be  wafted  from  the  same  banks  to  the  ends  of  the 
world.  If  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and  even  in  the  early 
years  of  the  sixteenth,  the  English  New  Testament  had  been 
brought  to  London,  it  would  only  have  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  a  few  Lollards.  Now,  in  every  place,  in  the  parsonages, 
the  universities,  and  the  palaces,  as  well  as  in  the  cottages 
of  the  husbandmen  and  the  shops  of  the  tradesmen,  there 
was  an  ardent  desire  to  possess  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The 
fiat  lux  was  about  to  be  uttered  over  the  chaos  of  the  church, 
and  light  to  be  separated  from  darkness  by  the  word  of 
God. 


BOOK  XIX. 

TEDS  ENGLISH  NEW  TESTAMENT  AND  THE  COURT  OF  BOMB. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Church  and  State  essentially  distinct — Their  fundamental  Principles— 
What  restores  Life  to  the  Church — Separation  from  Rome  necessary— 
Reform  and  Liberty— The  New  Testament  crosses  the  Sea— Is  hidden 
in  London— Garret's  Preaching  and  Zeal — Dissemination  of  Scripture 
— What  the  People  find  in  it— The  Effects  it  produces — Tyndale's 
Explanations— Roper,  More's  Son-in-law — Garret  carries  Tyndale's 
Testament  to  Oxford— Henry  and  his  Valet — The  Supplication  of  the 
Beggars — Two  Sorts  of  Beggars— Evils  caused  by  Priests — More's 
Supplications  of  the  Souls  in  Purgatory. 

THE  Church  and  the  State  are  essentially  distinct.  They 
both  receive  their  task  from  God,  but  that  task  is  different 
in  each.  The  task  of  the  church  is  to  lead  men  to  God  ;  the 
task  of  the  state  is  to  secure  the  earthly  development  of  a 
people  in  conformity  with  its  peculiar  character.  There  are 
certain  bounds,  traced  by  the  particular  spirit  of  each  nation 
within  which  the  state  should  confine  itself;  while  the  church, 
whose  limits  are  co-extensive  with  the  human  race,  has  a 
universal  character,  which  raises  it  above  all  national  differ- 
ences. These  two  distinctive  features  should  be  maintained. 
A  state  which  aims  at  universality  loses  itself;  a  church 
whose  mind  and  aim  are  sectarian  falls  away.  Neverthe- 
less, the  church  and  the  state,  the  two  poles  of  social  life, 
while  they  are  in  many  respects  opposed  to  one  another,  are 
far  from  excluding  each  other  absolutely.  The  church  has 
need  of  that  justice,  order,  and  liberty,  which  the  state  is 
bound  to  maintain ;  but  the  state  has  especial  need  of  the 
church.  If  Jesus  can  do  without  kings  to  establish  big 


262  CHURCH  AND  STATE. 

kingdom,  kings  cannot  do  without  Jesus,  if  they  would  have 
their  kingdoms  prosper.  Justice,  which  is  the  fundamental 
principle  of  the  state,  is  continually  fettered  in  its  progress 
by  the  internal  power  of  sin ;  and  as  force  can  do  nothing 
against  this  power,  the  state  requires  the  gospel  in  order  tr 
overcome  it.  That  country  will  always  be  the  most  pros- 
perous where  the  church  is  the  most  evangelical.  These 
two  communities  having  thus  need  one  of  the  other,  we 
must  be  prepared,  whenever  a  great  religious  manifesta- 
tion takes  place  in  the  world,  to  witness  the  appearance  on 
the  scene  not  only  of  the  little  ones,  but  of  the  great  ones  also, 
of  the  state.  We  must  not  then  be  surprised  to  meet  with 
Henry  VIII.,  but  let  us  endeavour  to  appreciate  accurately 
the  part  he  played. 

If  the  Reformation,  particularly  in  England,  happened 
necessarily  to  be  mixed  up  with  the  state,  with  the  world 
even,  it  originated  neither  in  the  state  nor  in  the  world. 
There  was  much  worldliness  in  the  age  of  Henry  VIII., 
passions,  violence,  festivities,  a  trial,  a  divorce ;  and  some 
historians  call  that  the  history  of  the  Reformation  in  Eng- 
land. We  shall  not  pass  by  in  silence  these  manifestations 
of  the  worldly  life ;  opposed  as  they  are  to  the  Christian  life, 
they  are  in  history,  and  it  is  not  our  business  to  tear  them 
out.  But  most  assuredly  they  are  not  the  Reformation. 
From  a  very  different  quarter  proceeded  the  divine  light 
which  then  rose  upon  th«  human  race. 

To  say  that  Henry  VIII.  was  the  reformer  of  his  people  is 
to  betray  our  ignorance  of  history.  The  kingly  power  in 
England  by  turns  opposed  and  favoured  the  reform  in  the 
church ;  but  it  opposed  before  it  favoured,  and  much  more 
than  it  favoured.  This  great  transformation  was  begun  and 
extended  by  its  own  strength,  by  the  Spirit  from  on  high. 

When  the  church  has  lost  the  life  that  is  peculiar  to  it,  it 
must  again  put  itself  in  communication  with  its  creative 
principle,  that  is,  with  the  word  of  God.  Just  as  the  buckets 
of  a  wheel  employed  in  irrigating  the  meadows  have  no 
sooner  discharged  their  reviving  waters,  than  they  dip  again 
into  the  stream  to  be  re-filled,  so  every  generation,  void  of 
the  Spirit  of  Christ,  must  return  to  the  divine  source  to  be 


GOD'S  SPIRIT  CREATES  THE  CHURCH.  263 

again  filled  up.  The  primitive  words  which  created  the 
church  have  been  preserved  for  us  in  the  Gospels,  the  Acts, 
and  the  Epistles ;  and  the  humble  reading  of  these  divine 
writings  will  create  in  every  age  the  communion  of  saints. 
Gtd  was  the  father  of  the  Reformation,  not  Henry  VIII. 
The  visible  world  which  then  glittered  with  such  brightness ; 
those  princes  and  sports,  those  noblemen,  and  trials  and 
laws,  far  from  effecting  a  reform,  were  calculated  to  stifle  it. 
But  the  light  and  the  warmth  came  from  heaven,  and  the 
new  creation  was  completed. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  a  great  number  of  citizens, 
priests,  and  noblemen  possessed  that  degree  of  cultivation 
which  favours  the  action  of  the  holy  books.  It  was  suffi- 
cient for  this  divine  seed  to  be  scattered  on  the  well-prepared 
soil  for  the  work  of  germination  to  be  accomplished. 

A  time  not  less  important  also  was  approaching — that  in 
which  the  action  of  the  popedom  was  to  come  to  an  end. 
The  hour  had  not  yet  struck.  God  was  first  creating  within 
by  his  word  a  spiritual  church,  before  he  broke  without  by 
bis  dispensations  the  bonds  which  had  so  long  fastened 
England  to  the  power  of  Rome.  It  was  jjis  good  pleasure 
first  to  give  truth  and  life,  and  then  liberty.  It  has  been 
said  that  if  the  pope  had  consented  to  a  reform  of  abuses 
and  doctrines,  on  condition  of  his  keeping  his  position,  the 
religious  revolution  would  not  have  been  satisfied  at  that 
price,  and  that  after  demanding  ^reform,  the  next  demand 
would  have  been  for  liberty.  The  only  reproach  that  can 
be  made  to  this  assertion  is,  that  it  is  superabundantly 
true.  Liberty  was  an  integral  part  of  the  Reformation, 
and  one  of  the  changes  imperatively  required  was  to  with- 
draw religious  authority  from  the  pope,  and  restore  it  to  the 
word  of  God.  In  the  sixteenth  century  there  was  a  great 
outpouring  of  the  Christian  life  in  France,  Italy,  and  Spain ; 
it  is  attested  by  martyrs  without  number,  and  history  shows 
that  to  transform  these  three  great  nations,  all  that  the  gos- 
pel wanted  was  liberty.*  "If  we  had  set  to  work  two 
months  later,"  said  a  grand  inquisitor  of  Spain  who  had 

*  Geddes's  Martyrology  Gonsalvi,  Mart.  Hisp.  Llorente,  Inquia. 
M'Crie,  Ref.  in  Spain. 


264  ARRIVAL  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENTS. 

dyed  himself  in  the  blood  of  the  saints,  "  it  would  have  been 
too  late :  Spain  would  have  been  lost  to  the  Roman  church." 
We  ma}'  therefore  believe  that  if  Italy,  France,  and  Spain 
had  had  some  generous  king  to  check  the  myrmidons  of  tUe 
pope,  those  three  countries,  carried  along  by  the  renovating 
power  of  the  gospel,  would  have  entered  upon  an  era  of 
liberty  and  faith. 

The  struggles  of  England  with  the  popeiom  began  shortly 
after  the  dissemination  of  the  English  New  Testament  by 
Tyndale.  The  epoch  at  which  we  are  arrived  accordingly 
brings  in  one  view  before  our  eyes  both  the  Testament  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  the  court  of  Rome.  We  can  thus  study 
the  men  (the  reformers  and  the  Romanists)  and  the  works 
they  produce,  and  arrive  at  a  just  valuation  of  the  two  great 
principles  which  dispute  the  possession  of  authority  in  the 
church. 

It  was  about  the  close  of  the  year  1525  ;  the  English  New 
Testament  was  crossing  the  sea ;  five  pious  Hanseatic  mer- 
chants had  taken  charge  of  the  books.  Captivated  by  the 
Holy  Scriptures  tjiey  had  taken  them  on  board  their  ships, 
hidden  them  among  their  merchandise ;  and  then  made  sail 
from  Antwerp  for  London. 

Thus  those  precious  pages  were  approaching  England, 
which  were  to  become  its  light  and  the  source  of  its  great- 
ness. The  merchants,  whose  zeal  unhappily  cost  them 
dear,  were  not  without  alarm.  Had  not  Cochlaeus  caused 
orders  to  be  sent  to  every  port  to  prevent  the  entrance  of  the 
precious  cargo  they  were  bringing  to  England?  They 
arrived  and  cast  anchor;  they  lowered  the  boat  to  reach 
the  shore ;  what  were  they  likely  to  meet  there  ?  Ton- 
stall's  agents,  no  doubt,  and  Wolsey's,  and  Henry's,  ready 
to  take  away  their  New  Testaments!  They  landed  and 
soon  again  returned  to  the  ship ;  boats  passed  to  and  fro, 
and  the  vessel  was  unloaded.  No  enemy  appeared ;  and  no 
one  seemed  to  imagine  that  these  ships  contained  so  great  a 
treasure. 

Just  at  the  time  this  invaluable  cargo  was  ascending  the 
river,  an  invisible  hand  had  dispersed  the  preventive  guard. 


THOMAS  GARRET.  265 

Tonstall,  bishop  of  London,  had  been  sent  to  Spain  ;  Wolsey 
was  occupied  in  political  combinations  with  Scotland,  France, 
and  the  Empire ;  Henry  VIII.,  driven  from  his  capital  by 
an  unhealthy  winter,  was  passing  the  Christmas  holidays  at 
Eltham ;  and  even  the  courts  of  justice,  alarmed  by  an  ex- 
traordinary mortality,  had  suspended  their  sittings.  God 
if  we  may  so  speak,  had  sent  his  angel  to  remove  th( 
guards.  0 

Seeing  nothing  that  could  stop  them,  the  five  merchants, 
whose  establishment  was  at  the  Steelyard  in  Thames  Street, 
hastened  to  conceal  their  precious  charge  in  their  ware- 
houses. But  who  will  receive  them  ?  Who  will  undertake 
to  distribute  these  Holy  Scriptures  in  London,  Oxford,  Cam- 
bridge, and  all  England  ?  It  is  a  little  matter  that  they 
have  crossed  the  sea.  The  principal  instrument  God  was 
about  to  use  for  their  dissemination  was  an  humble  servant 
of  Christ. 

In  Honey  Lane,  a  narrow  thoroughfare  adjoining  Cheap- 
side,  stood  the  old  church  of  All  Hallows,  of  which  Robert 
Forman  was  rector.  His  curate  was  a  plain  man,  of  lively 
imagination,  delicate  conscience,  and  timid  disposition,  but 
rendered  bold  by  his  faith,  to  which  he  was  to  become  a  mar- 
tyr. Thomas  Garret,  for  that  was  his  name,  having  be- 
lieved in  the  gospel,  earnestly  called  his  hearers  to  repent- 
ance ;*  he  urged  upon  them  that  works,  however  good  they 
might  be  in  appearance,  were  by  no  means  capable  of  justi- 
fying the  sinner,  and  that  faith  alone  could  save  him.-{-  He 
maintained  that  every  man  had  the  right  to  preach  the  word 
of  God  ;$  and  called  those  bishops  pharisees  who  persecuted 
Christian  men.  Garret's  discourses,  at  once  so  quickening 
and  so  gentle,  attracted  great  crowds ;  and  to  many  of  his 
hearers,  the  street  in  which  he  preached  was  rightly  named 
Honey  Lane,  for  there  they  found  the  honey  out  of  the  rock.§ 
But  Garret  was  about  to  commit  a  fault  still  more  heinous 

*  Earnestly  laboured  to  call  us  to  repentance.    Becon,  iii  p.  1 1. 
t  Quod  opera  nostra  quautumvis  bona  in  specie  nihil  cunducunt  ad 
justificationem  nee  ad  meritum,  sed  sola  fides.    Foxc,  Acli,  v.  p.  428. 
$  Every  man  may  preach  the  word  of  God.    Ibid. 
§  Psalm  Ixxxi.  16. 

12*  If 


260  WHAT  MEN  FOUND  IN  THE  SCRIPTURES. 

in  the  eyes  of  the  priests  than  preaching  faith.  The  Hanse 
merchants  were  seeking  some  sure  place  where  they  might 
store  up  the  New  Testaments  and  other  books  sent  from 
Germany ;  the  curate  offered  his  house,  stealthily  trans- 
ported the  holy  deposit  thither,  hid  them  in  the  most  secret 
corners,  and  kept  a  faithful  watch  over  this  sacred  library.* 
He  did  not  confine  himself  to  this.  Night  and  day  he 
studied  the  holy  books,  he  held  gospel  Meetings,  read  the 
word  and  explained  its  doctrines  to  the  citizens  of  London. 
At  last,  not  satisfied  with  being  at  once  student,  librarian, 
and  preacher,  he  became  a  trader,  and  sold  the  New  Testa- 
ment to  laymen,  and  even  to  priests  and  monks,  so  that  the 
Holy  Scriptures  were  dispersed  over  the  whole  realm.-}-  This 
humble  and  timid  priest  was  then  performing  alone  the 
biblical  work  of  England. 

And  thus  the  word  of  God,  presented  by  Erasmus  to  the 
learned  in  1517,  was  given  to  the  people  by  Tyndale  in  1526. 
In  the  parsonages  and  in  the  convent  cells,  but  particularly 
in  shops  and  cottages,  a  crowd  of  persons  were  studying  the 
New  Testament.  The  clearness  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  struck 
each  reader.  None  of  the  systematic  or  aphoristic  forms  of 
the  school  were  to  be  found  there :  it  was  the  language  of 
human  life  which  they  discovered  in  those  divine  writings : 
here  a  conversation,  there  a  discourse  ;•  here  a  narrative,  and 
there  a  comparison ;  here  a  command,  and  there  an  argu- 
ment ;  here  a  parable  and  there  a  prayer.  It  was  not  all  doc- 
trine or  all  history ;  but  these  two  elements  mingled  together 
made  an  admirable  whole.  Above  all,  the  life  of  our  Saviour, 
so  divine  and  so  human,  had  an  inexpressible  charm  which 
captivated  the  simple.  One  work  of  Jesus  Christ  explained 
another,  and  the  great  facts  of  the  redemption,  birth,  death, 
and  resurrection  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  sending  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  followed  and  completed  each  other.  The  au- 
thority of  Christ's  teaching,  so  strongly  contrasting  with  the 
doubts  of  the  schools,  increased  the  clearness  of  his  dis- 
courses to  his  readers  ;  for  the  more  certain  a  truth  is,  the 

*  Having  the  said  books  in  his  custody.    Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  428. 
t  Dispersing  abroad  of  the  said  books  within  this  realm.    Ibid.  p.  428. 
\e  also  Strype,  Cranmer's  Mem.  p.  81. 


WHAT  MEN  FOUND  IN  THE  SCRIPTURES.  267 

more  distinctly  it  strikes  the  mind.  Academical  explana- 
tions were  not  necessary  to  those  noblemen,  farmers,  and 
citizens.  It  is  to  me,  for  me,  and  of  me  that  this  book 
speaks,  said  each,  one.  It  is  I  whom  all  tbtse  promises  and 

teachings  concern.  This  fall  and  this  restoration they 

are  mine.  That  old  death  and  this  new  life I  have 

passed  through  them.  That/esA  and  that  spirit I  know 

them.  This  law  and  this  grace,  this  faith,  these  works,  this 

slavery,  this  glory,  this  Christ  and  this  Belial all  are 

familiar  to  me.  It  is  my  own  history  that  I  find  in  this  book. 
Thus  by  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Ghost  each  one  had  in  his  own 
experience  a  key  to  the  mysteries  of  the  Bible.  To  under- 
stand certain  authors  and  certain  philosophers,  the  intellec- 
tual life  of  the  reader  must  be  in  harmony  with  theirs ;  so 
must  there  be  an  intimate  affinity  with  the  holy  books  to 
penetrate  their  mysteries.  "  The  man  that  has  not  the  Spirit 
of  God,"  said  a  reformer,  "  does  not  understand  one  jot  or 
tittle  of  the  Scripture."*  Now  that  this  condition  was  ful- 
filled, the  Spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 

Such  at  that  period  were  the  hermeneutics  of  England. 
Tyndale  had  set  the  example  himself  by  explaining  many  of 
the  words  which  might  stop  the  reader.  "  The  New  Testa- 
ment I "  we  may  suppose  some  fanner  saying,  as  he  took  up 
the  book;  "what  Testament  is  that ?"—"  Christ,"  replied 
Tyndale  in  his  prologue,  "  commanded  his  disciples  before 
his  death  to  publish  over  all  the  world  his  last  will,  which  is 
to  give  all  his  goods  unto  all  that  repent  and  believe.-J-  He 
bequeaths  them  his  righteousness  to  blot  out  their  sins — 
his  salvation  to  overcome  their  condemnation ;  and  this  is 
why  that  document  is  called  the  Testament  of  Jesus  Christ." 

"  The  law  and  the  gospel,"  said  a  citizen  of  London,  in  his 
shop;  "what  is  that?"  "They  are  two  keys"  answered 
Tyndale.  "  The  law  is  the  key  which  shuts  up  all  men 
under  condemnation,  and  the  gospel  is  the  key  which  opens 

•  Nullus  homo  unnm  iota  in  Scripturis  sacris  videt,  nisi  qui  spiritura 
Dei  habet.  Luther,  De  servo  arbitrio,  Witt.  ii.  p.  424. 

t  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works  (ed.  Russell),  vol.  ii.  p.  491.  The 
"  Pathway  unto  the  Holy  Scripture"  is  the  prologue  to  the  quarto  Testa- 
ment, with  a  few  changes  of  little  importance. 


268  KOPER,  MOEE'S  SON-IN-LAW. 

the  door  and  lets  them  out.  Or,  if  you  like  it,  they  are  two 
salves.  The  law,  sharp  and  biting,  driveth  out  the  disease 
and  killeth  it ;  while  the  gospel,  soothing  and  soft,  softens 
the  wound  and  brings  life."*  Every  on^  understood  and 
read,  or  rather  devoured  the  inspired  pages  ;  and  the  hearts 
of  the  elect  (to  use  Tyndale's  words),  warmed  by  the  love  of 
Jesus  Christ,  began  to  melt  like  wax.f 

This  transformation  was  observed  to  take  place  even  in 
the  most  catholic  families.  Roper,  More's  son-in-law,  hav- 
ing read  the  New  Testament,  received  the  truth.  "  I  have 
no  more  need,"  said  he,  "  of  auricular  confession,  of  vigils, 
or  of  the  invocation  of  saints.  The  ears  of  God  are  always 
open  to  hear  us.  Faith  alone  is  necessary  to  salvation.  I 

believe and  I  am  saved Nothing  can  deprive  me  of 

God's  favour."  J 

The  amiable  and  zealous  young  man  desired  to  do  more. 
"  Father,"  said  he  one  day  to  Sir  Thomas,  "  procure  for  me 
from  the  king,  who  is»very  fond  of  you,  a  license  to  preach. 
God  hath  sent  me  to  instruct  the  world."  More  was  uneasy. 
Must  this  new  doctrine,  which  he  detests,  spread  even  to  his 
children  ?  He  exerted  all  his  authority  to  destroy  the  work 
begun  in  Roper's  heart.  "  What,"  said  he  with  a  smile,  "  is 
it  not  sufficient  that  we  that  are  your  friends  should  know 
that  you  are  a  fool,  but  you  would  proclaim  your  folly  to 
the  world?  Hold  your  tongue:  I  wiH  debate  with  you  no 
longer."  The  young  man's  imagination  was  struck,  but  his 
heart  had  not  been  changed.  The  discussions  having 
ceased,  the  father's  authority  being  restored,  Roper  became 
less  fervent  in  his  faith,  and  gradually  he  returned  to  popery, 
of  which  he  was  afterwards  a  zealous  champion. 

The  humble  curate  of  All  Hallows  having  sold  the  New 
Testament  to  persons  living  in  London  and  its  neighbour- 
hood, and  to  many  pious  men  who  would  carry  it  to  the 
farthest  parts  of  England,  formed  the  resolution  to  introduce 
it  into  the  University  of  Oxford,  that  citadel  of  traditional 
Catholicism.  It  was  there  he  had  studied,  and  he  felt  to- 
wards that  school  the  affection  which  a  son  bears  to  his 

'  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works  (ed.  Russell),  vol.  ii.  p.  503. 
+  Ibid.  p.  500.  J  More'a  Life,  p.  134. 


HENRY  Vm.  AND  HIS  VALET.  269 

mother:  he  set  out  with  his  books.*  Terror  occasionally 
seized  him,  for  he  knew  that  the  word  of  God  had  many 
deadly  enemies  at  Oxford ;  but  his  inexhaustible  zeal  over- 
came his  timidity.  In  concert  with  Dalaber,  he  stealthily 
offered  the  mysterious  book  for  sale ;  many  Students  bought 
it,  and  Garret  carefully  entered  their  names  in  his  register. 
This  was  in  January  1526 ;  an  incident  disturbed  this 
Christian  activity. 

One  morning  when  Edmund  Moddis,  one  of  Henry's 
valets-de-chambre,  was  in  attendance  on  his  master,  the 
prince,  who  was  much  attached  to  him,  spoke  to  him  of  the 
new  books  come  from  beyond  the  sea.  "  If  your  grace," 
said  Moddis,  "  would  promise  to  pardon  me  and  certain  in- 
dividuals, I  would  present  you  a  wonderful  book  which  is 
dedicated  to  your  majesty ."•{• — "  Who  is  the  author?" — "  A 
lawyer  of  Gray's  Inn  named  Simon  Fish,  at  present  on  the 
continent." — "AVhat  is  he  doing  there?" — "About  three 
years  ago,  Mr  Row,  a  fellow-student  of  Gray's  Inn,  composed 
for  a  private  theatre  a  drama  against  my  lord  the  cardinal." 
The  king  smiled ;  when  his  minister  was  attacked,  his  own 
yoke  seemed  lighter.  "  As  no  one  was  willing  to  represent 
the  character  employed  to  give  the  cardinal  his  lesson,"  con- 
tinued the  valet,  "Master  Fish  boldly  accepted  it.  The 
piece  produced  a  great  effect ;  and  my  lord  being  informed 
of  this  impertinence,  sent  the  police  one  night  to  arrest  Fish. 
The  latter  managed  to  escape,  crossed  the  sea,  joined 
one  Tyndale,  the  author  of  some  of  the  books  so  much 
talked  of;  and,  carried  away  by  his  friend's  example,  he 
composed  the  book  of  which  I  was  speaking  to  your  grace." 
— "What's  the  name  of  it?"— "  The  Supplication  of  the 
Beggars" — "Where  did  you  see  it?" — "At  two  of  your 
tradespeople's,  George  Elyot  and  George  Robinson  :f  it 
your  grace  desires  it,  they  shall  bring  it  you."  The  king 
appointed  the  day  and  the  hour. 

The  book  was  written  for  the  king,  and  everybody  read 

*  And  brought  with  him  Tyndale's  first  translation  of  the  New  Testa- 
aent  in  English.  Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  421. 

•f  His  grace  should  see  such  a  book  as  it  was  a  marvel  to  hear  of. 
lhid.ir.  p.  658.  J  Ibid. 


270  SUPPLICATION  OF  THE  BEGGARS. 

it  but  the  king  himself.  At  the  appointed  day,  Moddis  ap- 
peared with  Elyot  and  Robinson,  who  were  not  entirely 
without  fear,  as  they  might  be  accused  of  proselytism  even 
in  the  royal  palace.  The  king  received  them  in  his  private 
apartments.*  "What  do  you  want?"  he  said  to  them. 
"  Sir,"  replied  one  of  the  merchants,  "  we  are  come  about  an 
extraordinary  book  that  is  addressed  to  you." — "  Can  one  of 
you  read  it  to  me?" — "  Yes,  if  it  so  please  your  grace,"  re- 
plied Elyot.  "  You  may  repeat  the  contents  from  memory," 

rejoined  the  king "but,  no,  read  it. all;  that  will  be 

better.     I  am  ready."     Elyot  began, 

"  THE  SUPPLICATION  OF  THE  BEGGARS." 
"  To  the  king  our  sovereign  lord, — 

"  Most  lamentably  complaineth  of  their  woeful  misery, 
unto  your  highness,  your  poor  daily  bedesmen,  the  wretched 
hideous  monsters,  on  whom  scarcely,  for  horror,  any  eye 
dare  look ;  the  foul  unhappy  sort  of  lepers  and  other  sore 
people,  needy,  impotent,  blind,  lame,  and  sick,  that  live  only 
by  alms;  how  that  their  number  is  daily  sore  increased, 
that  all  the  alms  of  all  the  well-disposed  people  of  this  your 
realm  are  not  half  enough  to  sustain  them,  but  that  for  very 
constraint  they  die  for  hunger. 

"  And  this  most  pestilent  mischief  is  come  upon  your  said 
poor  bedesmen,  by  the  reason  that  there  hath,  in  the  time  of 
your  noble  predecessors,  craftily  crept  into  this  your  realm, 
another  sort,  not  of  impotent,  but  of  strong,  puissant,  and 
counterfeit,  holy  and  idle  beggars  and  vagabonds,  who  by 
all  the  craft  and  wiliness  of  Satan  are  now  increased  not 
only  into  a  great  number,  but  also  into  a  kingdom." 

Henry  was  very  attentive.     Elyot  continued : 

"  These  are  not  the  shepherds,  but  the  ravenous  wolves 
going  in  shepherds'  clothing,  devouring  the  flock :  bishops, 
abbots,  priors,  deacons,  archdeacons,  suffragans,  priests, 

monks,    canons,    friars,    pardoners,    and  sumners The 

goodliest  lordships,  manors,  lands,  and  territories  are  theirs. 
Besides  this,  they  have  the  tenth  part  of  all  the  corn, 
meadow,  pasture,  grass,  wood,  colts,  calves,  lambs,  pigs, 

*  Foxe,  Acts.  iv.  p.  658 


EVILS  CAUSED  BY  THE  PRIESTS.  271 

geese,  and  chickens.  Over  and  besides,  the  tenth  part  of 
every  servant's  wages,  the  tenth  part  of  wool,  milk,  honey, 
wax,  cheese,  and  butter.  The  poor  wives  must  be  account- 
able to  them  for  every  tenth  egg,  or  else  she  getteth  not  her 

rights  [t.  e.  absolution]  at  Easter Finally,  what  get 

they  in  a  year?  Sumtoa  totalis:  £430,333,  6s.  8d.  ster- 
ling, whereof  not  four  hundred  years  past  they  had  not  a 
penny 

"  What  subjects  shall  be  able  to  help  their  prince,  that  be 
after  this  fashion  yearly  polled  ?  What  good  Christian  people 
can  be  able  to  succour  us  poor  lepers,  blind,  sore,  and  lame, 

that  be  thus  yearly  oppressed? The  ancient  Romans 

had  never  been  able  to  have  put  all  the  whole  world  under 
their  obeisance,  if  they  had  had  at  home  such  an  idle  sort  of 
cormorants."  . .  . . 

No  subject  could  have  been  found  more  likely  to  captivate 
the  king's  attention.  "  And  what  doth  all  this  greedy  sort 
of  sturdy  idle  holy  thieves  with  their  yearly  exactions  that 
they  take  of  the  people  ?  Truly  nothing,  but  translate  all 
rule,  power,  lordship,  authority,  obedience,  and  dignity  from 
your  grace  unto  them.  Nothing,  but  that  all  your  subjects 

should  fall  into  disobedience  and  rebellion Priests  and 

doves  make  foul  houses ;  and  if  you  will  ruin  a  state,  set  up 

in  it  the  pope  with  his  monks  and  clergy Send  these 

sturdy  loobies  abroad  in  the  world  to  take  them  wives  of 
their  own,  and  to  get  their  living  with  their  labour  in  the 

sweat  of  their  faces Then  shall  your  commons  increase  in 

riches;  then  shall  matrimony  be  much  better  kept;  then 
shall  not  your  sword,  power,  crown,  dignity,  and  obedience 
of  your  people  be  translated  from  you." 

When  Elyot  had  finished  reading,  the  king  was  silent, 
sunk  in  thought.  The  true  cause  of  the  ruin  of  the  state 
had  been  laid  before  him ;  but  Henry's  mind  was  not  ripe 
for  these  important  truths.  At  last  he  said,  with  an  uneasy 
manner :  "  If  a  man  who  desires  to  pull  down  an  old  wall, 
begins  at  the  bottom,  I  fear  the  upper  part  may  chance  to 
fall  on  his  head."*  Thus  then,  in  the  king's  eyes,  Fish  by 

*  The  upper  part  thereof  might  chance  to  fall  upon  his  head.  Foxe, 
Acts,  iv.  p.  658. 


272  SUPPLICATIONS  OP  THE  SOULS  IN  PURGATORY. 

attacking  the  priests  was  disturbing  the  foundations  of  reli- 
gion and  society.  After  this  royal  verdict,  Henry  rose,  took 
the  book,  locked  it  up  in  his  desk,  and  forbade  the  two  mer- 
chants to  reveal  to  any  one  the  fact  of  their  having  read  it 
to  him. 

Shortly  after  the  king  had  received  this  copy,  on  Wednes- 
day the  2d  of  February,  the  feast  of  Candlemas,  a  number  of 
persons,  including  the  king  himself,  were  to  take  part  in  the 
procession,  bearing  wax  tapers  in  their  hands.  During  the 
night  this  famous  invective  was  scattered  about  all  the 
streets  through  which  the  procession  had  to  pass.  The 
cardinal  ordered  the  pamphlet  to  be  seized,  and  immediately 
waited  upon  the  king.  The  latter  put  his  hand  under  his 
robe,  and  with  a  smile  took  out  the  so  much  dreaded  work, 
and  then,  as  if  satisfied  with  this  proof  of  independence,  he 
gave  it  up  to  the  cardinal. 

While  Wolsey  replied  to  Fish  by  confiscation,  Sir  Thomas 
More  with  greater  liberality,  desiring  that  press  should  reply 
to  press,  published  The  Supplications  of  the  Souls  in  Purga- 
tory. "  Suppress,"  said  they,  "  the  pious  stipends  paid  to 
the  monks,  and  then  Luther's  gospel  will  come  in,  Tynd ale's 
Testament  will  be  read,  heresy  will  preach,  fasts  will  be 
neglected,  the  saints  will  be  blasphemed,  God  will  be  of- 
fended, virtue  will  be  mocked  of,  vice  will  run  riot,  and 
England  will  be  peopled  with  beggars  and  thieves."*  The 
Souls  in  Purgatory  then  call  the  author  of  the  Beggars' 
Supplication  "a  goose,  an  ass,  a  mad  dog."  Thus  did 
superstition  degrade  More's  noble  genius.  Notwithstanding 
the  abuse  of  the  souls  in  purgatory,  the  New  Testament  was 
daily  read  more  and  more  in  England. 

*  Supplication  of  the  Souls  in  Purgatory.    More's  Works. 


COUNCIL  OF  BISHOPS.  273 


CHAPTER  II. 

• 

The  two  Authorities— Commencement  of  the  Search — Garret  at  Oxford 
— His  Flight— His  Return  and  Imprisonment — Escapes  and  takes 
Refuge  with  Dalaber — Garret  and  Dalaber  at  Prayer — The  Magnifi- 
cat— Surprise  among  the  Doctors — dart's  Advice — Fraternal  Love  at 
Oxford— Alarm  of  Dalaber — His  Arrest  and  Examination — He  is 
tortured— Garret  and  twenty  Fellows  imprisoned — The  Cellar — Con- 
demnation and  Humiliation. 

WOLSEY  did  not  stop  with  Fish's  book.  It  was  not  that 
"miserable  pamphlet"  only  that  it  was  necessary  to  hunt 
down ;  the  New  Testament  in  English  had  entered  the  king- 
dom by  surprise;  there  was  the  danger.  The  gospellers, 
who  presumed  to  emancipate  man  from  the  priests,  and  put 
him  in  absolute  dependence  on  God,  did  precisely  the  reverse 
of  what  Rome  demands.*  The  cardinal  hastened  to  as- 
semble the  bishops,  and  these  (particularly  Warham  and. 
Tonstall,  who  had  long  enjoyed  the  jests  launched  against 
superstition)  took  the  matter  seriously  when  they  were 
shown  that  the  New  Testament  was  circulating  throughout 
England.  These  priests  believed  with  "VVolsey,  that  the  au- 
thority of  the  pope  and  of  the  clergy  was  a  dogma  to  which 
all  others  were  subordinate.  They  saw  in  the  reform  an  up- 
rising of  the  human  mind,  a  desire  of  thinking  for  themselves, 
of  judging  freely  the  doctrines  and  institutions,  which  the 
nations  had  hitherto  received  humbly  from  the  hands  of 
the  priests.  The  new  doctors  justified  their  attempt  at  en- 
franchisement by  substituting  a  new  authority  for  the  old. 
It  was  the  New  Testament  that  compromised  the  absolute 
power  of  Rome.  It  must  be  seized  and  destroyed,  said  the 
bishops.  London,  Oxford,  and  above  all  Cambridge,  those 
three  haunts  of  heresy,  must  be  carefully  searched.  Defini- 
tive orders  were  issued  on  Saturday,  3d  February  .1520,  and 
the  work  began  immediately. 

*  Actus  merit  or  ius  est  in  potestate  hominis.    Duns  Scot  us  in  Sen  tent, 
lib.  1.  diss.  17. 

1*2 


274      COMMENCEMENT  OP  THE  SEAHCH GAKKK'f's  FLIGHT. 

The  first  visit  of  the  inquisitors  was  to  Honey  Lane,  to  the 
house  of  the  curate  of  All  Hallows.  They  did  not  find  Gar- 
ret ;  they  sought  after  him  at  Monmouth's,  and  throughout 
the  city,  but  he  could  not  be  met  with.*  "  He  is  gone  to 
Oxford  to  sell  his  detestable  wares,"  the  inquisitors  were  in- 
formed, and  they  set  off  after  him  immediately,  determined 
to  burn  the  evangelist  and  his  books ;  "so  burning  hot,"  says 
an  historian,  "  was  the  charity  of  these  holy  fathers."  f 

On  Tuesday,  the  6th  of  February,  Garret  was  quietly  sell- 
ing his  books  at  Oxford,  and  carefully  noting  down  his  sales 
in  his  register,  when  two  of  his  friends  ran  to  him  exclaim- 
ing, "  Fly  I  or  else  you  will  be  taken  before  the  cardinal,  and 

thence to  the  Tower."  The  poor  curate  was  greatly 

agitated.  "  From  whom  did  you  learn  that  ? " — "  From 
Master  Cole,  the  clerk  of  the  assembly,  who  is  deep  in  the 
cardinal's  favour."  Garret,  who  saw  at  once  that  the  affair 
was  serious,  hastened  to  Anthony  Dalaber,  who  held  the 
stock  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  at  Oxford ;  others  followed  him ; 
the  news  had  spread  rapidly,  and  those  who  had  bought  the 
book  were  seized  with  alarm,  for  they  knew  by  the  history 
of  the  Lollards  what  the  Romish  clergy  could  do.  They  took 
counsel  together.  The  brethren,  "  for  so  did  we  not  only 
call  one  another,  but  were  in  deed  one  to  another,"  says 
Dalaber,^:  decided  that  Garret  should  change  his  name ;  that 
Dalaber  should  give  him  a  letter  for  his  brother,  the  rector 
of  Stalbridge,  in  Dorsetshire,  who  was  in  want  of  a  curate ; 
and  that,  once  in  this  parish,  he  should  seek  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  crossing  the  sea.  The  rector  was  in  truth  a  "  mad 
papist"  (it  is  Dalaber's  expression),  but  that  did  not  alter 
their  resolution.  They  knew  of  no  other  resource.  Anthony 
wrote  to  him  hurriedly ;  and.  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  of 
February,  Garret  left  Oxford  without  being  observed. 

Having  provided  for  Garret's  safety,  Dalaber  next  thought 
of  his  own.  He  carefully  concealed  in  a  secret  recess  of  his 
chamber,  at  St  Alban's  Hall,  Tyndale's  Testament,  and  the 
works  of  Luther,  CEcolampadius,  and  others,  on  the  word  of 
God.  Then,  disgusted  with  the  scholastic  sophisms  which 

*  He  was  searched  for  through  all  London.    Foxe,  Acts,  v.  p.  421. 
t  Ibid.  J  Ibid. 


HIS  RETURN  AND  IMPRISONMENT.  275 

• 

he  heard  in  that  college,  he  took  with  him  the  New  Testa- 
ment and  the  Commentary  on  the  Gospel  of  St  Luke,  by 
Lambert  of  Avignon,  the  second  edition  of  which  had  just 
been  published  at  Strasburg,*  and  went  to  Gloucester  col- 
lege, where  he  intended  to  study  the  civil  law,  not  caring  to 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  church. 

During  this  time,  poor  Garret  was  making  his  way  into 
Dorsetshire.  His  conscience  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  being, 
although  for  a  short  time  only,  the  curate  of  a  bigoted  priest, 
— of  concealing  his  faith,  his  desires,  and  even  his  name. 
He  felt  more  wretched,  although  at  liberty,  than  he  could 
have  been  in  Wolsey's  prisons.  It  is  better,  he  said  within 
himself,  to  confess  Christ  before  the  judgment-seat,  than  to 
seem  to  approve  of  the  superstitious  practices  I  detest.  He 
went  forward  a  little,  then  stopped — and  then  resumed  his 
course.  There  was  a  fierce  struggle  between  his  fears  and 
his  conscience.  At  length,  after  a  day  and  a  half  spent  in 
doubt,  his  conscience  prevailed ;  unable  to  endure  any  longer 
the  anguish  that  he  felt,  he  retraced  his  steps,  returned  to 
Oxford,  which  he  entered  on  Friday  evening,  and  lay  down 
calmly  in  his  bed.  It 'was  barely  past  midnight  when  Wol- 
sey's agents,  who  had  received  information  of  his  return, 
arrived,  and  dragged  him  from  his  bed,-}-  and  delivered  him 
up  to  Dr  Cottisford,  the  commissary  of  the  university.  The 
latter  locked  him  up  in  one  of  his  rooms,  while  London  and 
Higdon,  dean  of  Frideswide,  "two  arch  papists"  (as  the 
chronicler  terms  them),  announced  this  important  capture  to 
the  cardinal.  They  thought  popery  was  saved,  because  a 
poor  curate  had  been  taken. 

Dalaber,  engaged  in  preparing  his  new  room  at  Gloucester 
college,  had  not  perceived  all  this  commotion.^  On  Saturday, 
at  noon,  having  finished  his  arrangements,  he  double-locked 
his  door,  and  began  to  read  the  Gospel  according  to  St  Luke. 
All  of  a  sudden  he  hears  a  knock.  Dalaber  made  no  reply ; 
it  is  no  doubt  the  commissary's  officers.  A  louder  knock 
was  given ;  but  he  still  remained  silent.  Immediately  after, 
there  was  a  third  knock,  as  if  the  door  would  be  beaten  in. 

*  In  LUCID  Evangclium  Commentarii,  nuac  secundo  recogniti  et  lo- 
cupletati.  Argentorati,  1525.  f  Foxe,  T.  p.  422.  J  Ibid. 


276  GARKET  TAKES  REFUGE  WITH  DALABER. 

• 

"  Perhaps  somebody  wants  me,"  thought  Dalaber.  He  laid 
his  book  aside,  opened  the  door,  and  to  his  great  surprise 
saw  Garret,  who,  with  alarm  in  every  feature,  exclaimed, 
"  I  am  a  lost  man !  They  have  caught  me  I"  Dalaber,  who 
thought  his  friend  was  with  his  brother  at  Stalbridge,  could 
not  conceal  his  astonishment,  and  at  the  same  time  he  cast  an 
uneasy  glance  on  a  stranger  who  accompanied  Garret.  He 
was  one  of  the  college  servants  who  had  led  the  fugitive 
curate  to  Dalaber's  new  room.  As  soon  as  this  man  had 
gone  away,  Garret  told  Anthony  everything :  "  Observing 
that  Dr  Cottisford  and  his  household  had  gone  to  prayers,  I 

put  back  the  bolt  of  the  lock  with  my  finger and  here  I 

am." "Alas!  Master  Garret,"  replied  Dalaber,  the  im- 
prudence you  committed  in  speaking  to  me  before  that  young 
man  has  ruined  us  both !"  At  these  words,  Garret,  who  had 
resumed  his  fear  of  the  priests,  now  that  his  conscience  was 
satisfied,  exclaimed  with  a  voice  interrupted  by  sighs  and 
tears  :*  "  For  me.rcy's  sake,  help  me !  Save  me !"  Without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  he  threw  off  his  frock  and  hood, 
begged  Anthony  to  give  him  a  sleeved  coat,  and  thus  dis- 
guised, he  said :  "  I  will  escape  into  Wales,  and  from  there, 
if  possible,  to  Germany  and  Luther." 

Garret  checked  himself ;  there  was  something  to  be  done 
before  he  left.  The  two  friends  fell  on  their  knees  and  prayed 
together;  they  called  upon  God  to  lead  his  servant  to  a 
secure  retreat.  That  done,  they  embraced  each  other,  their 
faces  bathed  with  tears,  and  unable  to  utter  a  word.-}- 

Silent  on  the  threshold  of  his  door,  Dalaber  followed  both 
with  eyes  and  ears  his  friend's  retreating  footsteps.  Having 
heard  him  reach  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  he  returned  to  his 
room,  "lock ed  the  door,  took  out  his  New  Testament,  and 
placing  it  before  him,  read  on  his  knees  the  tenth  chapter  of 
the  Gospel  of  St  Matthew,  breathing  many  a  heavy  sigh : 

Ye  shall  be  brought  before  governors  and  kings  for  my 

sake but  fear  them  not ;  the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are 

all  numbered.  This  reading  having  revived  his  courage, 
Anthony,  still  on  his  knees,  prayed  fervently  for  the  fugitive 

*  With  deep  sighs  and  plenty  of  tears.    Foxe,  v.  p.  422 
f  That  we  all  bewet  both  our  faces.    Ibid.  p.  423. 


THE  MAGNIFICAT.  277 

and  for  all  his  brethren  :  "  0  God,  by  thy  Holy  Spirit  endue 
with  heavenly  strength  this  tender  and  new-born  little  flock 
in  Oxford.*    Christ's  heavy  cross  is  about  to  be  laid  on  the 
weak  shoulders  of  thy  poor  sheep.     Grant  that  they  may- 
bear  it  with  godly  patience  and  unflinching  zeal !" 

Rising  from  his  knees,  Dalaber  put  away  his  book,  folder 
up  Garret's  hood  and  frock,  placed  them  among  his  o\vn 
clothes,  locked  his  room-door,  and  proceeded  to  the  Cardinal': 
College,  (now  Christ  Church,)  to  tell  Clark  and  the  other 
brethren  what  had  happened.-}-  They  were  in  chapel :  the 
evening  service  had  begun ;  the  dean  and  canons,  in  full 
oostume,  were  chanting  in  the  choir.  Dalaber  stopped  at 
the  door  listening  to  the  majestic  sounds  of  the  organ  at 
which  Taverner  presided,  and  to  the  harmonious  strains  of 
the  choristers.  They  were  singing  the  Magnificat :  My  soul 

doth  magnify  the  Lord lie  hathholpen  his  servant  Israel. 

It  seemed  to  Dalaber  that  they  were  singing  Garret's  deliv- 
erance. But  his  voice  could  not  join  in  their  song  of  praise. 
"  Alas  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  all  my  singing  and  music  is  turned 
into  sighing  and  musing."  J 

As  he  listened,  leaning  against  the  entrance  into  the  choir. 
Dr  Cottisford,  the  university  commissary,  arrived  with  hasty 
step,  "  bareheaded,  and  as  pale  as  ashes."  He  passed  An- 
thony without  noticing  him,  and  going  straight  to  the  dean 
appeared  to  announce  some  important  and  unpleasant  news. 
"  I  know  well  the  cause  of  his  sorrow,"  thought  Dalaber  as 
he  watched  every  gesture.  The  commissary  had  scarcely 
finished  his  report  when  the  dean  arose,  and  both  left  the 
choir  with  undisguised  confusion.  They  had  only  reached 
the  middle  of  the  ante-chapel  when  Dr  London  ran  in,  puf- 
fing and  chafing  and  stamping,  "  like  a  hungry  and  gfcedy 
lion  seeking  his  prey."§  All  three  stopped,  questioned  each 
other,  and  deplored  their  misfortune.  Their  rapid  and  eager 
movements  indicated  the  liveliest  emotion :  London  above 
all  could  not  restrain  himself.  He  attacked  the  commissary, 
and  blamed  him  for  his  negligence,  so  that  at  last  Cottisford. 
burst  into  tears.  "  Deeds,  not  tears,"  said  the  fanatical 

Foie.v.  p.  423.         +  Ibid.          J  Ibid.  §  Ibid.  p.  424. 


278  RAGE  OP  THE  THREE  DOCTORS. 

London ;  and  forthwith  they  despatched  officers  and  spies 
along  every  road. 

Anthony  having  left  the  chapel  hurried  to  Clark's  to  tell 
him  of  the  escape  of  his  friend.  "  We  are  walking  in  the 
midst  of  wolves  and  tigers,"  replied  Clark ;  "  prepare  for  per- 
secution. Prudentia  serpentina  et  simplicitas  columbina  (the 
wisdom  of  serpents  and  the  harmlessness  of  doves)  must  be 
our  motto.  0  God,  give  us  the  courage  these  evil  times 
require."  All  in  the  little  flock  were  delighted  at  Garret's 
deliverance.  Sumner  and  Betts,  who  had  come  in,  ran  off 
to  tell  it  to  the  other  brethren  in  the  college,  *  and  Dalaber 
hastened  to  Corpus  Christi.  All  these  pious  young  men  felt 
themselves  to  be  soldiers  in  the  same  army,  travellers  in  the 
same  company,  brothers  in  the  same  family.  Fraternal  love 
nowhere  shone  so  brightly  in  the  days  of  the  Reformation 
as  among  the  Christians  of  Great  Britain.  This  is  a  feature 
worthy  of  notice. 

Fitzjames,  Udal,  and  Diet  were  met  together  in  the  rooms 
of  the  latter,  at  Corpus  Christi  College,  when  Dalaber  ar- 
rived. They  ate  their  frugal  meal,  with  downcast  eyes  and 
broken  voices,  conversing  of  Oxford,  of  England,  and  of  the 
perils  hanging  over  them.-]-  Then  rising  from  table  they  fell 
on  their  knees,  called  upon  God  for  aid,  and  separated,  Fitz- 
james taking  Dalaber  with  him  to  St  Alban's  Hall.  They 
were  afraid  that  the  servant  of  Gloucester  College  had  be- 
trayed him. 

The  disciples  of  the  gospel  at  Oxford  passed  the  night  in 
great  anxiety.  Garret's  flight,  the  rage  of  the  priests,  the 
dangers  of  the  rising  church,  the  roaring  of  a  storm  that 
filled  the  air  and  re-echoed  through  the  long  cloisters — all 
impressed  them  with  terror.  On  Sunday,  the  llth  of  Fe- 
bruary, Dalaber,  who  was  stirring  at  five  in  the  morning, 
set  out  for  his  room  in  Gloucester  College.  Finding  the 
gates  shut,  he  walked  up  and  down  beneath  the  walls  in  the 
mud,  for  it  had  rained  all  night.  As  he  paced  to  and  fro 
along  the  solitary  street  in  the  obscure  dawn,  a  thousand 

•  To  tell  unto  our  other  brethren  ;  (for  there  were  divers  else  in  tha< 
college.)    Foxe,  v.  p.  424. 
t  Considering  onr  state  and  peril  nt  hand.    Ibid. 


DALABER'S  ALAEM.  .  279 

thoughts  alarmed  his  mind.  It  was  known,  he  said  to  him- 
self, that  he  had  taken  part  in  Garret's  flight ;  he  would  be 
arrested,  and  his  friend's  escape  would  be  revenged  on  him.* 
He  was  weighed  down  by  sorrow  and  alarm;  he  sighed 
heavily ;  -j-  he  imagined  he  saw  Wolsey's  commissioners 
demanding  the  names  of  his  accomplices,  and  pretending  to 
draw  up  a  proscription  list  at  nis  dictation ;  he  recollected 
that  on  more  than  one  occasion  cruel  priests  had  extorted 
from  the  Lollards  the  names  of  their  brethren,  and  terrified 
at  the  possibility  of  such  a  crime,  he  exclaimed ;  "  0  God,  I 

swear  to  thee  that  I  will  accuse  no  man, I  will  tell 

nothing  but  what  is  perfectly  well  known."  J 

At  last,  after  an  hour  of  anguish,  he  was  able  to  enter  the 
college.  He  hastened  in,  but  when  he  tried  to  open  his  door, 
he  found  that  the  lock  had  been  picked.  The  door  gave  way 
to  a  strong  push,  and  what  a  sight  met  his  eyes !  his  bed- 
stead overturned,  the  blankets  scattered  on  the  floor,  his 
clothes  all  confusion  in  his  wardrobe,  his  study  broken  into 
and  left  open.  He  doubted  not  that  Garret's  dress  had  be- 
trayed him;  and  he  was  gazing  at  this  sad  spectacle  in  alarm, 
when  a  monk  who  occupied  the  adjoining  rooms  came  and 
told  him  what  had  taken  place :  "  The  commissary  and  two 
proctors,  armed  with  swords  and  bills,  broke  open  your  door 
in  the  middle  of  the  night.  They  pierced  your  bed-straw 
through  and  through  to  make  sure  Garret  was  not  hidden 
there ;  §  they  carefully  searched  every  nook  and  corner,  but 
were  not  able  to  discover  any  traces  of  the  fugitive."  At 

these  words  Dalaber  breathed  again but  the  monk  had 

not  ended.  il  I  have  orders,"  he  added,  "  to  send  you  to  the 
prior."  Anthony  Dunstan,  the  prior,  was  a  fanatical  and 
avaricious  monk ;  and  the  confusion  into  which  this  mes- 
sage threw  Dalaber  was  so  great,  that  he  went  just  as  he 
was,  all  bespattered  with  mud,  to  the  rooms  of  his  su- 
perior. 

The  prior,  who  was  standing  with  his  face  towards  the 

*  My  musing  head  being  full  of  forecasting  cares.    Foxe,  v.  p.  424. 

f  My  sorrowful  heart  flowing  with  doleful  sighs.    Ibid. 

J  I  fully  determined  in  my  conscience  before  God  that  I  would  accuse 
no  man.  Ibid. 

§  With  bills  and  swords  thrusted  througfi  my  bed-straw.   Ibid.  p.  425. 


280   DALABER  INTERROGATED PUT  TO  THE  TORTURE. 

door,  looked  at  Dalaber  from  head  to  foot  as  he  came  in. 
"  Where  did  you  pass  the  night?"  he  asked.  "  At  St  Al- 
ban's  Hall  with  Fitzjames."  The  prior  with  a  gesture  of  in- 
credulity continued:  "Was  not  Master  Garret  with  you 
yesterday?"— "Yes."— "Where  is  he  now?"— "I  do  not 
know."  During  this  examination,  the  prior  had  remarked  a 
large  double  gilt  silver  ring  on  Anthony's  finger,  with  the 
initials  A.  D.*  "Show  me  that,"  said  the  prior.  Dalaber 
gave  him  the  ring,  and  the  prior  believing  it  to  be  of  solid 
gold,  put  it  on  his  own  finger,  adding  with  a  cunning  leer : 
"  This  ring  is  mine :  it  bears  my  name.  A  is  for  Anthony, 
and  D  for  Dunstan."— "  Would  to  God,"  thought  Dalaber, 
"  that  I  were  as  well  delivered  from  his  company,  as  I  am 
sure  of  being  delivered  of  my  ring." 

At  this  moment  the  chief  beadle,  with  two  or  three  of  the 
commissary's  men,  entered  and  conducted  Dalaber  to  the 
chapel  of  Lincoln  College,  where  three  ill-omened  figures 
were  standing  beside  the  altar :  they  were  Cottisford,  Lon- 
don, and  Higdon.  "  Where  is  Garret?"  asked  London;  and 
pointing  to  his  disordered  dress,  he  continued :  "  Your  shoes 
and  garments  covered  with  mud  prove  that  you  have  been 
out  all  night  with  him.  If  you  do  not  say  where  you  have 
taken  him,  you  will  be  sent  to  the  Tower." — "  Yes,"  added 
Higdon,  "  to  Little-ease  [one  of  the  most  horrible  dungeons 
in  the  prison],  and  you  will  be  put  to  the  torture,  do  you 
hear?"  Then  the  three  doctors  spent  two  hours  attempting 
to  shake  the  young  man  by  flattering  promises  and  frightful 
threats ;  but  all  was  useless.  The  commissary  then  gave  a 
sign,  the  officers  stepped  forward,  and  the  judges  ascended 
a  narrow  staircase  leading  to  a  large  room  situated  above  the 
commissary's  chamber.  Here  Dalaber  was  deprived  of  his 
purse  and  girdle,  and  his  legs  were  placed  in  the  stocks,  so 
that  his  feet  were  almost  as  high  as  his  head.-j-  When  that 
was  done,  the  three  doctors  devoutly  went  to  mass. 

Poor  Anthony,  left  alone  in  this  frightful  position,  recol- 
lected the  warning  Clark  had  given  him  two  years  before. 

*  Then  had  he  spied  on  my  fore-finger  a  big  ring  of  silver,  very  well 
double-gilted.    Foxe,  v.  p.  425. 
t  Ibid.  p.  426 


GAF.RET  AND  OTHERS  IMPRISONED.  281 

He  groaned  heavily  and  cried  to  God:*  "0  Father!  that 
my  suffering  may  be  for  thy  glory,  and  for  the  consolation  of 
my  brethren !  Happen  what  may,  I  will  never  accuse  one 
of  them."  After  this  noble  protest,  Anthony  felt  an  increase 
of  peace  in  his  heart ;  but  a  new  sorrow  was  reserved  for 
him. 

Garret,  who  had  directed  his  course  westwards,  with  the 
intention  of  going  to  Wales,  had  been  caught  at  Hinksey,  a 
short  distance  from  Oxford.  He  was  brought  back,  and 
thrown  into  the  dungeon  in  which  Dalaber  had  been  placed 
after  the  torture.  Their  gloomy  presentiments  were  to  be 
more  than  fulfilled. 

In  fact  Wolscy  was  deeply  irritated  at  seeing  the  college 
[Christ  Church],  which  he  had  intended  should  be  "  the  most 
glorious  in  the  world,"  made  the  haunt  of  heresy,  and  the 
young  men,  whom  he  had  so  carefully  chosen,  become  dis- 
tributors of  the  New  Testament.  By  favouring  literature, 
he  had  had  in  view  the  triumph  of  the  clergy,  and  literature 
had  on  the  contrary  served  to  the  triumph  of  the  gospel.  He 
issued  his  orders  without  delay,  and  the  university  was 
filled  with  terror.  John  Clark,  John  Fryth,  Henry  Sumner, 
William  Betts,  Richard  Taverner,  Richard  Cox,  Michael 
Drumm,  Godfrey  Harman,  Thomas  Lawney,  Radley,  and 
others  besides  of  Cardinal's  College ;  Udal,  Diet,  and  others 
of  Corpus  Christi ;  Eden  and  several  of  his  friends  of  Mag- 
dalene; Goodman,  William  Bayley,  Robert  Ferrar,  John 
Salisbury  of  Gloucester,  Barnard,  and  St  Mary's  Colleges ; 
were  seized  and  thrown  into  prison.  Wolsey  had  promised 
them  glory;  he  gave  them  a  dungeon,  hoping  in  this  man- 
ner to  save  the  power  of  the  priests,,  and  to  repress  that 
awakening  of  truth  and  liberty  which  was  spreading  from 
the  continent  to  England. 

Under  Cardinal's  College  there  was  a  deep  cellar  sunk  in 
the  earth,  in  which  the  butler  kept  his  salt  fish.  Into  tin's 
hole  these  young  men,  the  choice  of  England,  were  thrust. 
The  dampness  of  this  cave,  the  corrupted  air  they  breathed, 
the  horrible  smell  given  out  by  the  fish,  seriously  affected 
the  prisoners,  already  weakened  by  study.  Their  hearts  were 

•  Foxe,  v.  p.  427. 
VOL.  V.  13 


282  CONDEMNATION  AND  HUMILIATION. 

bursting  with  groans,  their  faith  was  shaken,  and  the  most 
mournful  scenes  followed  each  other  in  this  foul  dungeon. 
The  wretched  captives  gazed  on  one  another,  wept,  and 
prayed.  This  trial  was  destined  to  be  a  salutary  one  to 
them:  "Alas!"  said  Fryth  on  a  subsequent  occasion,  *' I 
see  that  besides  the  word  of  God,  there  is  indeed  a  second 

purgatory but  it  is  not  that  invented  by  Rome ;  it  is  the 

cross  of  tribulation  to  which  God  has  nailed  us."* 

At  last  the  prisoners  were  taken  out  one  by  one  and 
brought  before  their  judges  ;  two  only  were  released.  The 
first  was  Betts,  afterwards  chaplain  to  Anne  Boleyn :  they 
had  not  been  able  to  find  any  prohibited  books  in  his  room, 
and  he  pleaded  his  cause  with  great  talent.  The  other  was 
Taveruer;  he  had  hidden  Clark's  books  under  his  school-room 
floor,  where  they  had  been  discovered ;  but  his  love  for  the 
arts  saved  him :  "  Pshaw !  he  is  only  a  musician,"  said  the 
cardinal. 

All  the  rest  were  condemned.  A  great  fire  was  kindled 
at  the  top  of  the  market-place  ;f  a  long  procession  was  mar- 
shalled, and  these  unfortunate  men  were  led  out,  each  bear- 
ing a  fagot.  When  they  came  near  the  fire,  they  were  com- 
pelled to  throw  into  it  the  heretical  books  that  had  been 
found  in  their  rooms,  after  which  they  were  taken  back  to 
their  noisome  prison.  There  seemed  to  be  a  barbarous  plea- 
sure in  treating  these  young  and  generous  men  so  vilely. 
In  other  countries  also,  Rome  was  preparing  to  stifle  in  the 
flames  the  noblest  geniuses  of  France,  Spain,  and  Italy. 
Such  was  the  reception  letters  and  the  gospel  met  with  from 
popery  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Every  plant  of  God's  must 
be  beaten  by  the  wind,  even  at  the  risk  of  its  being  uprooted ; 
if  it  receives  only  the  gentle  rays  of  the  sun,  there  is  reason 
to  fear  that  it  will  dry  up  and  wither  before  it  produces  fruit. 
Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and  die,  it  alideth 
alone.  There  was  to  arise  one  day  a  real  church  in  England, 
for  the  persecution  had  begun. 

We  have  to  contemplate  still  further  trials. 

*  God  naileth  us  to  the  cross  to  heal  our  infirmities.  Tyndale  and 
Fryth's  Works,  iii.  p.  91  (ed.  Russell). 

•t  There  was  made  a  great  fire  upon  the  top  of  Carfax.  Foxe,  v. 
p.  428. 


CAMBRIDGE.  283 


CHAPTER  III. 

Persecution  at  Cambridge— Barnes  arrested — A  grand  Search — Barnes 
at  Wolsey's  Palace— Interrogated  by  the  Cardinal — Conversation  be- 
tween Wolsey  and  Barnes — Barnes  threatened  with  the  Stake— His 
Fall  and  public  Penance— Richard  Bayfield — His  Faith  and  Imprison- 
ment— Visits  Cambridge — Joins  Tyndale -The  Confessors  in  the  Cellar 
at  Oxford— Four  of  them  die — The  rest  liberated. 

CAMBRIDGE,  which  had  produced  Latimer,  Bilney,  Stafford, 
and  Barnes,  had  at  first  appeared  to  occupy  the  front  rank 
in  the  English  reformation.  Oxford  by  receiving  the  crown 
of  persecution  seemed  now  to  have  outstripped  the  sister 
university.  And  yet  Cambridge  was  to  have  its  share  of 
suffering.  The  investigation  had  begun  at  Oxford  on  Mon- 
day the  oth  of  February,  and  on  the  very  same  day  two  of 
Wolsey's  creatures,  Dr  Capon,  one  of  his  chaplains,  and 
Gibson,  a  sergeant-at-arms,  notorious  for  his  arrogance,  left 
London  for  Cambridge.  Submission,  was  the  pass-word  of 
popery.  "  Yes,  submission,"  was  responded  from  every  part 
of  Christendom  by  men  of  sincere  piety  and  profound  under- 
standing ;  "  submission  to  the  legitimate  authority  against 
which  Roman-catholicism  has  rebelled."  According  to  their 
views  the  traditionalism  and  pelagianism  of  the  Romish 
church  had  set  up  the  supremacy  of  fallen  reason  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  divine  supremacy  of  the  word  and  of  grace.  The 
external  and  apparent  sacrifice  of  self  which  Roman-catholi- 
cism imposes, — obedience  to  a  confessor  or  to  the  pope,  ar- 
bitrary penance,  ascetic  practices,  and  celibacy, — only  served 
to  create,  and  so  to  strengthen  and  perpetuate,  a  delusion  as 
to  the  egotistic  preservation  of  a  sinful  personality.  When 
the  Reformation  proclaimed  liberty,  so  far  as  regarded  or- 
dinances of  human  invention,  it  was  with  the  view  of  .bring- 
ing man's  heart  and  life  into  subjection  to  their  real  Sove- 
reign. The  reign  of  God  was  commencing;  that  of  the  priests 
must  needs  come  to  an  end.  No  man  can  serve  two  masters. 


284  SEARCH  FOR  THE  HERETICAL  BOOKS. 

Such  were  the  important  truths  which  gradually  dawned 
upon  the  world,  and  which  it  became  necessary  to  extinguish 
without  delay. 

On  the  day  after  their  arrival  in  Cambridge,  on  Tuesday 
the  6th  of  February,  Capon  and  Gibson  went  to  the  convo- 
cation house,  where  several  of  the  doctors  -were  talking  to- 
gether. Their  appearance  caused  some  anxiety  among  the 
spectators,  who  looked  upon  the  strangers  with  distrust. 
On  a  sudden  Gibson  moved  forward,  put  his  hand  on  Barnes, 
and  arrested  him  in  the  presence  of  his  friends.*  The  latter 
were  frightened,  and  this  was  what  the  sergeant  wanted. 
"What!"  said  they,  "the  prior  of  the  Augustines,  the  re- 
storer of  letters  in  Cambridge,  arrested  by  a  sergeant-!"  This 
was  not  all.  Wolsey's  agents  were  to  seize  the  books  come 
from  Germany,  and  their  owners  ;  Bilney,  Latimer,  Stafford, 
Arthur,  and  their  friends,  were  all  to  be  imprisoned,  for  they 
possessed  the  New  Testament.  Thirty  members  of  the  uni- 
versity were  pointed  out  as  suspected ;  and  some  miserable 
wretches,  who  had  been  bribed  by  the  inquisitors,  offered  to 
show  the  place  in  every  room  where  the  prohibited  books 
were  hidden.  But  while  the  necessary  preparations  were 
making  for  this  search,  Bilney,  Latimer,  and  their  colleagues 
being  warned  in  time,  got  the  books  removed ;  they  were 
taken  away  not  only  by  the  doors  but  by  the  windows,  even 
by  the  roofs,  and  anxious  inquiry  was  made  for  sure  places 
in  which  they  could  be  concealed. 

This  work  was  hardly  ended,  when  the  vice-chancellor  01 
the  university,  the  sergeant-at-arms,  Wolsey's  chaplain,  the 
proctors,  and  the  informers  began  their  rounds.  They  opened 
the  first  room,  entered,  searched,  and  found  nothing.  They 
passed  on  to  the  second,  there  was  nothing.  The  sergeant 
was  astonished,  and  grew  angry.  On  reaching  the  third 
room,  he  ran  directly  to  the  place  that  had  been  pointed  out, 
— still  there  was  nothing.  The  same  thing  occurred  every- 
where ;  never  was  inquisitor  more  mortified.  He  dared  not 
lay  hftnds  on  the  persons  of  the  evangelical  doctors ;  his  or- 
ders bore  that  he  was  to  seize  the  books  and  their  owners. 

"  Suddenly  arrested  Barnes  openly  ia  the  convocation  house  to  make 
all  others  afraid.  Foxc,  v.  p.  416. 


BARNES  IN  WOLSEY*S  PALACE.  £85 

13ut  as  no  books  were  found,  there  could  be  no  prisoners. 
Luckily  there  was  one  man  (the  prior  of  the  Augustines) 
against  whom  there  were  particular  charges.  The  sergeant 
promised  to  compensate  himself  at  Barnes's  expense  for  his 
useless  labours. 

The  next  day  Gibson  and  Capon  set  out  for  London  with 
Barnes.  During  this  mournful  journey  the  prior,  in  great 
agitation,  at  one  time  determined  to  brave  all  England,  and 
at  another  trembled  like  a  leaf.  At  last  their  journey  was 
ended  ;  the  chaplain  left  his  prisoner  at  Parnell's  house, 
close  by  the  stocks.*  Three  students  (Coverdale,  Goodwin, 
and  Field)  had  followed  their  master  to  cheer  him  with  their 
tender  affection. 

On  Thursday  (8th  February)  the  sergeant  conducted 
Barnes  to  the  cardinal's  palace  at  Westminster ;  the  wretched 
prior,  whose  enthusiasm  had  given  way  to  dejection,  waited 
all  day  before  he  could  be  admitted.  What  a  day  ! 
Will  no  one  come  to  his  assistance?  Doctor  Gardiner, 
Wolsey's  secretary,  and  Fox,  his  steward,  both  old  friends 
of  Barnes,  passed  through  the  gallery  in  the  evening,  and 
went  up  to  the  prisoner,  who  begged  them  to  procure 
him  an  audience  with  the  cardinal.  When  night  had  come, 
these  officers  introduced  the  prior  into  the  room  where  their 
master  was  sitting,  and  Barnes,  as  was  customary,  fell  on  his 
knees  before  him.  "  Is  this  the  Doctor  Barnes  who  is  ac- 
cused of  heresy?"  asked  Wolsey,  in  a  haughty  tone,  of  Fox 
and  Gardiner.  They  replied  in  the  affirmative.  The  car- 
dinal then  turning  to  Barnes,  who  was  still  kneeling,  said  to 
him  ironically,  and  not  without  reason :  "  What,  master 
doctor,  had  you  not  sufficient  scope  in  the  Scriptures  to  teach 
the  people ;  but  my  golden  shoes,  my  poleaxes,  my  pillars, 
my  golden  cushions,  my  crosses,  did  so  sore  offend  you,  that 
you  must  make  us  a  laughing-stock,  ridiculum  caput, 
amongst  the  people  ?  We  were  jollily  that  day  laughed  to 
scorn.  Verily  it  was  a  sermon  more  fit  to  be  preached  on  a 
stage  than  in  a  pulpit;  for  at  the  last  you  said  I  wore  a 
pair  of  red  gloves — I  should  say  bloody  gloves  (quoth  you) 

Eh !  what  think  you,  master  doctor?  "  Barnes,  wishing 

»  Foie,  v.  p.  416. 


286  INTERROGATED  BY  THE  CARDINAL.  ' 

to  elude  these  embarrassing  questions,  answered  vaguely : 
"  I  spoke  nothing  hut  the  truth  out  of  the  Scriptures,  accord- 
ing to  my  conscience  and  according  to  the  old  doctors.'' 
He  then  presented  to  the  cardinal  a  statement  of  his  teach- 
ing. 

Wolsey  received  the  papers  with  a  smile  :  "  Oh,  ho!"  said 
he  as  he  counted  the  six  sheets,  "  I  perceive  you  intend  to 
stand  to  your  articles  and  to  show  your  learning."  "  With 
the  grace  of  God,"  said  Barnes.  Wolsey  then  began  to  read 
them,  and  stopped  at  the  sixth  article,  which  ran  thus  :  "  I 
will  never  believe  that  one  man  may,  by  the  law  of  God,  be 
bishop  of  two  or  three  cities,  yea,  of  a  whole  country,  for  it 
is  contrary  to  St  Paul,  who  saith  :  /  have  left  thee  behind,  to 
set  in  every  city  a  bishop."  Barnes  did  not  quote  correctly, 
for  the  apostle  says  :  "  to  ordain  elders  in  every  city."* 
Wolsey  was  displeased  at  this  thesis :  "  Ah !  this  touches 
me,"  he  said  :  "  Do  you  think  it  wrong  (seeing  the  ordinance 
of  the  church)  that  one  bishop  should  have  so  many  cities 
underneath  him?" — "  I  know  of  no  ordinance  of  the  church," 
Barnes  replied,  "  as  concerning  this  thing,  but  Paul's  saying 
only." 

Although  this  controversy  interested  the  cardinal,  the 
personal  attack  of  which  he  had  to  complain  touched  him 
more  keenly.  "  Good,"  said  Wolsey ;  and  then  with  a  con- 
descension hardly  to  be  expected  from  so  proud  a  man,  he 
deigned  almost  to  justify  himself.  "  You  charge  me  with 
displaying  a  royal  pomp ;  but  do  you  not  understand  that, 
being  called  to  represent  his  majesty,  I  must  strive  by  these 
means  to  strike  terror  into  the  wicked?" — "It  is  not  your 
porno  or  your  poleaxes,"  Barnes  courageously  answered, 

"  that  will  save  the  king's  person God  will  save  him, 

who  said  :  Per  me  rcges  regnant."  Barnes,  instead  of  pro- 
fiting by  the  cardinal's  kindness  to  present  an  humble  justi- 
fication, as  Dean  Colet  had  formerly  done  to  Henry  VIII. 
dared  preach  him  a  second  sermon  to  his  face.  Wolsey  fel-t 
the  colour  mount  to  his  cheeks.  "  Well,  gentlemen,"  said 
he,  turning  to  Fox  and  Gardiner,  "  you  hear  him !  Is  this 
the  wise  and  learned  man  of  whom  you  spoke  to  me?" 

*  K«}  K»raff-rnirr.s  Kara,  ir'o\it  «rjs<rCi/T«jst>f.     Titus  i.  5. 


BARNES  FAIJLS.  287 

At  these  words  both  steward  and  secretary  fell  on  their 
kr.ees,  saying :  "  My  lord,  pardon  him  for  mercy's  sake." — 
"  Can  you  find  ten  or  even  six  doctors  of  divinity  willing  to 
gwear  that  you  are  free  from  heresy?"  asked  Wolsey. 
Barnes  offered  twenty  honest  men,  quite  as  learned  as  him- 
self, or  even  more  so.  "  I  must  have  doctors  in  divinity, 
men  as  old  as  yourself." — "  That  is  impossible,"  said  the 
prior.  "  In  that  case  you  must  be  burnt,"  continued  the 
cardinal.  "Let  him  be  taken  to  the  Tower."  Gardiner 
and  Fox  offering  to  become  his  sureties,  "Wolsey  permitted 
him  to  pass  the  night  at  Parnell's. 

"  It  is  no  time  to  think  of  sleeping,"  said  Barnes  as  he 
entered  the  house,  "  we  must  write."  Those  harsh  and 
terrible  words,  you  must  be  burnt,  resounded  continually  in 
his  ears.  He  dictated  all  night  to  his  three  young  friends  a 
defence  of  his  articles. 

The  next  day  he  was  taken  before  the  chapter,  at  which 
Clarke,  bishop  of  Bath,  Standish,  and  other  d6ctors  were 
present  His  judges  laid  before  him  a  long  statement,  and 
said  to  him :  "  Promise  to  read  this  paper  in  public,  without 
omitting  or  adding  a  single  word."  It  was  then  read  to  him 
"  would  die  first,"  was  his  reply.  "  Will  you  abjure  or  be 
burnt  alive?"  said  his  judges ;  "take  your  choice."  The 
alternative  was  dreadful.  Poor  Barnes,  a  prey  to  the 
deepest  agony,  shrank  at  the  thought  of  the  stake;  then, 
suddenly  his  courage  revived,  and  he  exclaimed :  "  I  would 
rather  be  burnt  than  abjure."  Gardiner  and  Fox  did  all  they 
could  to  persuade  him.  "  Listen  to  reason,"  said  they 
craftily :  "  your  articles  are  true ;  that  is  not  the  question. 
\Ve  want  to  know  whether  by  your  death  you  will  let 
error  triumph,  or  whether  you  would  rather  remain  to  defend 
the  truth,  when  better  days  may  come." 

They  entreated  him  ;  they  put  forward  the  most  plausible 
motives ;  from  time  to  time  they  uttered  the  terrible  words 
burnt  alive  !  His  blood  froze  in  his  veins ;  he  knew  not 

what  he  said  or  did they  placed  a  paper  before  him — 

they  put  a  pen  in  his  hand — his  head  was  bewildered,  he 
signed  his  name  with  a  deep  sigh.  This  unhappy  man  was 
destined  at  a  later  period  to  be  a  faithful  martyr  of  Jesus 


288  PUBLIC  PENANCE  OF  BARNES. 

Christ;  but  he  had  not  yet  learnt  to  "resist  even  unto 
blood."     Barnes  had  fallen. 

On  the  following  morning  (Sunday,  llth  February)  a 
solemn  spectacle  was  preparing  at  St  Paul's.  Before  day- 
break, all  were  astir  in  the  prison  of  the  poor  prior ;  and  at 
eight  o'clock,  the  knight-marshal  with  his  tipstaves,  and  the 
warden  of  the  Fleet  prison  with  his  billmen,  conducted 
Barnes  to  St  Paul's,  along  with  four  of  the  Hanse  mer- 
chants who  had  first  brought  to  London  the  New  Testament 
of  Jesus  Christ  in  English.  The  fifth  of  these  pious  mer- 
chants held  an  immense  taper  in  his  hands.  A  persevering 
search  had  discovered  that  it  was  these  men  to  whom  Eng- 
land Avas  indebted  for  the  so  much  dreaded  book ;  their 
warehouses  were  surrounded  and  their  persons  arrested. 
On  the  top  of  St  Paul's  steps  was  a  platform,  and  on  the 
platform  a  throne,  and  on  the  throne  the  cardinal,  dressed  in 
scarlet — like  a  "  bloody  antichrist,"  says  the  chronicler.  On 
his  head  glittered  the  hat  of  which  Barnes  had  spoken  so 
ill ;  around  him  were  thirty-six  bishops,  abbots,  priors,  and 
all  his  doctors,  dressed  in  damask  and  satin ;  the  vast  cathe- 
dral was  full.  The  bishop  of  Rochester  having  gone  into  a 
pulpit  placed  at  the  top  of  the  steps,  Barnes  and  the  mer- 
chants, each  bearing  a  fagot,  were  compelled  to  kneel  and 
listen  to  a  sermon  intended  to  cure  these  poor  creatures  of 
that  taste  for  insurrection  against  popery  which  was  begin- 
ning to  spread  in  every  quarter.  The  sermon  ended,  the 
cardinal  mounted  his  mule,  took  his  station  under  a  magni- 
ficent canopy,  and  rode  off.  After  this  Barnes  and  his  five 
companions  walked  three  times  round  a  fire,  lighted  before 
the  cross  at  the  north  gate  of  the  cathedral.  The  dejected 
prior,  with  downcast  head,  dragged  himself  along,  rather 
than  walked.  After  the  third  turn,  the  prisoners  threw 
their  fagots  into  the  flames;  some  "heretical"  books  also 
were  flung  in ;  and  the  bishop  of  Rochester  having  given 
absolution  to  the  six  penitents,  they  were  led  back  to 
prison  to  be  kept  there  during  the  lord  cardinal's  pleasure. 
Barnes  could  not  weep  now ;  the  thought  of  his  relapse,  and 
of  the  effects  so  guilty  an  example  might  produce,  had  de- 
prived him  of  all  moral  energy.  In  the  month  of  August, 


THE  MONK  OF  BURY.  289 

be  was  led  out  of  prison  and  confined  in  the  Augustine  con- 
vent. 

Barnes  was  not  the  only  man  at  Cambridge  upon  whom 
the  blow  had  fallen.  Since  the  year  1520,  a  monk  named 
Richard  Bayfield  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  abbey  of 'Bury 
St  Edmunds.  His  affability  delighted  every  traveller.  One 
day,  when  engaged  as  chamberlain  in  receiving  Barnes,  who 
had  come  to  visit  Dr  Ruffam,  his  fellow-student  at  Lou- 
vain,  two  men  entered  the  convent.  They  were  pious  per- 
sons, and  of  great  consideration  in  London,  where  they 
carried  on  the  occupation  of  brick  making,  and  had  risen  to 
be  wardens  of  their  guild.  Their  names  were  Maxwell  and 
Stacy,  men  "  well  grafted  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ,"  says  the 
historian,  who  had  led  many  to  the  Saviour  by  their  con- 
^ersation  and  exemplary  life.  Being  accustomed  to  travel 
:nce  a-year  through  the  counties  to  visit  their  brethren,  and 
extend  a  knowledge  of  the  gospel,  they  used  to  lodge,  ac- 
cording to  the  usages  of  the  time,  in  the  convents  and 
abbeys.  A  conversation  soon  arose  between  Barnes,  Stacy, 
and  Maxwell,  which  struck  the  lay-brother.  Barnes,  who 
had  observed  his  attention,  gave  him,  as  lie  was  leaving  the 
convent,  a  New  Testament  in  Latin,  and  the  two  brick- 
makers  added  a  New  Testament  in  English,  with  The 
Wicked  Mammon,  and  The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man. 
The  lay-brother  ran  and  hid  the  books  in  his  cell,  and  for 
two  years  read  them  constantly.  At  last  he  was  discovered, 
and  reprimanded  ;  but  he  boldly  confessed  his  faith.  Upon 
this  the  monks  threw  him  into  prison,  set  him  in  the  stocks, 
put  a  gag  in  his  mouth,  and  cruelly  whipped  him,  to  pre- 
vent his  speaking  of  grace.*  The  unhappy  Bayfield  re- 
mained nine  months  in  this  condition. 

When  Barnes  repeated  his  visit  to  Bury  at  a  later  period, 
he  did  not  find  the  amiable  chamberlain  at  the  gates  of  the 
abbey.     Upon  inquiry  he  learnt  his  condition,  and  imme- 
diately took  steps  to  procure  his  deliverance.     Dr  Ruffam 
came  to  his  aid :  "  Give  him  to  me,"  said  Barnes,  "  I  will 
take  him  to  Cambridge."    The  prior  of  the  Augustines  was  at 
that  time  held  in  high  esteem ;  his  request  was  granted,  in 
*  Foxe,  iv.  p.  681. 
13* 


290  PERSECUTION  AT  OXFORD. 

the  hope  that  he  would  lead  back  Bayfield  to  the  doctrines 
of  the  church.  But  the  very  reverse  took  place :  intercourse 
with  the  Cambridge  brethren  strengthened  the  young  monk's 
faith.  On  a  sudden  his  happiness  vanished.  Barnes,  his 
friend  and  benefactor,  was  carried  to  London,  and  the  monks 
of  Bury  St  Edmunds,  alarmed  at  the  noise  this  affair  created, 
summoned  him  to  return  to  the  abbey.  But  Bayfield,  re- 
solving to  submit  to  their  yoke  no  longer  went  to  London, 
and  lay  concealed  at  Maxwell  and  Stacy's.  One  day,  having 
left  his  hiding-place,  he  was  crossing  Lombard  street,  when 
he  met  a  priest  named  Pierson  and  two  other  religious  of 
his  order,  with  whom  he  entered  into  a  conversation  which 
greatly  scandalized  them.  "  You  must  depart  forthwith," 
said  Maxwell  and  Stacy  to  him  on  his  return.  Bayfield 
received  a  small  sum  of  money  from  them,  went  on  board  a 
ship,  and  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  continent,  hastened  to 
find  Tyndale.  During  this  time  scenes  of  a  very  different 
nature  from  those  which  had  taken  place  at  Cambridge,  but 
not  less  heartrending,  were  passing  at  Oxford. 

The  storm  of  persecution  was  raging  there  with  more  vio- 
lence than  at  Cambridge.  Clark  and  the  other  confessors  of 
the  name  of  Christ  were  still  confined  in  their  under-ground 
prison.  The  air  they  breathed,  the  food  they  took  (and  they 
ate  nothing  but  salt  fish*),  the  burning  thirst  this  created, 
the  thoughts  by  which  they  were  agitated,  all  together  com- 
bined to  crush  these  noble-hearted  men.  Their  bodies 
wasted  day  by  day;  they  wandered  like  spectres  up  and 
down  their  gloomy  cellar.  Those  animated  discussions  in 
which  the  deep  questions  then  convulsing  Christendom  were 
so  eloquently  debated  were  at  an  end ;  they  were  like  shadow 
meeting  shadow.  Their  hollow  eyes  cast  a  vague  and  hag- 
gard glance  on  one  another,  and  after  gazing  for  a  moment 
they  passed  on  without  speaking.  Clark,  Sumner,  Bayley, 
and  Goodman,  consumed  by  fever,  feebly  crawled  along,  lean- 
ing against  their  dungeon  walls.  The  first,  who  was  also  the 
eldest,  could  not  walk  without  the  support  of  one  of  his  fel- 
low-prisoners. Soon  he  was  quite  unable  to  move,  and  lay 
stretched  upon  the  damp  floor.  The  brethren  gathered  round 
*  Fox*  T.  p.  5. 


THE  CONFESSORS  IN  THE  CELLAR  AT  OXFORD.      291 

him,  sought  to  discover  in  his  features  whether  death  was 
not  about  to  cut  short  the  days  of  him  who  had  brought 
many  of  them  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ.  They  repeated 
to  him  slowly  the  words  of  Scripture,  and  then  knelt  down 
by  his  side  and  uttered  a  fervent  prayer. 

Clark,  feeling  his  end  draw  near,  asked  for  the  commun- 
ion. The  jailers  conveyed  his  request  to  their  master ;  the 
noise  of  the  bolts  was  soon  heard,  and  a  turnkey,  stepping 
into  the  midst  of  the  disconsolate  band,  pronounced  a  cruel 
no  .'  *  On  hearing  this,  Clark  looked  towards  heaven,  and 
exclaimed  with  a  father  of  the  church :  Crede  et  manducasti, 
Believe  and  thou  hast  eaten.  7  He  was  lost  in  thought :  he 
contemplated  the  crucified  Son  of  God ;  by  faith  he  ate  and 
drank  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ,  and  experienced  in  his 
inner  life  the  strengthening  action  of  the  Redeemer.  Men 
might  refuse  him  the  host,  but  Jesus  had  given  him  his 
body ;  and  from  that  hour  he  felt  strengthened  by  a  living 
union  with  the  King  of  heaven. 

Not  alone  did  Clark  descend  into  the  shadowy  valley: 
Sumner,  Bayley,  and  Goodman  were  sinking  rapidly.  Death, 
the  gloomy  inhabitant  of  this  foul  prison,  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  these  four  friends.  J:  Their  brethren  addressed  fresh 
solicitations  to  the  cardinal,  at  that  time  closely  occupied 
in  negotiations  with  France,  Rome,  and  Venice.  §  He  found 
means,  however,  to  give  a  moment  to  the  Oxford  martyrs  ; 
and  just  as  these  Christians  were  praying  over  their  four 
dying  companions,  the  commissioner  came  and  informed 
them,  that  "  his  lordship,  of  his  great  goodness,  permitted 
the  sick  persons  to  be  removed  to  their  own  chambers." 
Litters  were  brought,  on  which  the  dying  men  were  placed 
and  carried  to  their  rooms ;  j|  the  doors  were  closed  again 
upon  those  whose  lives  this  frightful  dungeon  had  not  yet 
attacked. 

It  was  the  middle  of  August.    The  wretched  men  who 

*  Not  be  suffered  to  receive  the  communion,  being  in  prison.  Foxo, 
v.  p.  428. 

t  Ibid.  Habe  fidem  et  tecum  est  quern  non  vides,  says  Augustine  in 
another  place.  See  Senn.  235, 272.  Tract.  26,  Evan.  Joh. 

J  Taking  their  death  in  the  same  prison.    Foxe,  v.  p.  5. 

§  State  Papers,  i.  p.  169.  ||  Foxe,  v.  p.  6. 


292  DEATH  OF  FOUR  PRISONERS — THE  OTHERS  SET  AT  LIBERTY. 

had  passed  six  months  in  the  cellar  were  transported  in  vain 
to  their  chambers  and  their  beds ;  several  members  of  the 
university  ineffectually  tried  by  their  cares  and  their  tender 
charity  to  recall  them  to  life.  It  was  too  late.  The  severi- 
ties of  popery  had  killed  these  noble  witnesses.  The  ap- 
proach of  death  soon  betrayed  itself ;  their  blood  grew  cold, 
their  limbs  stiff,  and  their  bedimmed  eyes  sought  only  Jesus 
Christ,  their  everlasting  hope.  Clark,  Sumner,  and  Bayley 
died  in  the  same  week.  Goodman  followed  close  upon 
them.* 

This  unexpected  catastrophe  softened  Wolsey.  He  was 
cruel  only  as  far  as  his  interest  and  the  safety  of  the  church 
required.  He  feared  that  the  death  of  so  many  young 
men  would  raise  public  opinion  against  him,  or  that  these 
catastrophes  would  damage  his  college ;  perhaps  even  some 
sentiment  of  humanity  may  have  touched  his  heart.  "  Set 
the  rest  at  liberty,"  he  wrote  to  his  agents,  "  but  upon  con- 
dition that  they  do  not  go  above  ten  miles  from  Oxford." 
The  university  beheld  these  young  men  issue  from  their 
living  tomb  pale,  wasted,  weak,  and  with  faltering  steps. 
At  that  time  they  were  not  men  of  mark ;  it  was  their  youth 
that  touched  the  spectators'  hearts ;  but  in  after-years  they 
all  occupied  an  important  place  in  the  church.  They  were 
Cox,  who  became  bishop  of  Ely,  and  tutor  to  Edward  the 
Prince  Royal ;  Drumm,  who  under  Cranmer  became  one  of 
the  six  preachers  at  Canterbury ;  Udal,  afterwards  master 
of  Westminster  and  Eton  schools ;  Salisbury,  dean  of  Nor- 
wich, and  then  bishop  of  Sodor  and  Man,  who  in  all  his 
wealth  and  greatness  often  recalled  his  frightful  prison  at 
Oxford  as  a  title  to  glory ;  Ferrar,  afterwards  Cranmer's 
chaplain,  bishop  of  St  David's,  and  a  martyr  even  unto 
death,  after  an  interval  of  thirty  years ;  Fryth,  Tyndale's 
friend,  to  whom  this  deliverance  proved  only  a  delay ;  and 
several  others.  When  they  came  forth  from  their  terrible 
dungeon,  their  friends  ran  up  to  them,  supported  their  fal- 
tering steps,  and  embraced  them  amidst  floods  of  tears. 
Fryth  quitted  the  university  not  long  after  and  went  to 

*  Foxe,  T.  p.  5. 


LUTHER'S  LETTER  TO  THE  KING — HENRY'S  WRATH.     293 

Flanders.*  Thus  was  the  tempest  stayed  which  had  so 
fearfully  ravaged  Oxford.  But  the  calm  was  of  no  long 
duration ;  an  unexpected  circumstance  became  perilous  to 
the  cause  of  the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

0 

Luther's  Letter  to  the  King— Henry's  Anger — His  Reply — Luther's  Re- 
solution—Persecutions— Barnea  escapes — Proclamations  against  the 
New  Testament— W.  Roy  to  Caiaphas— Third  Edition  of  the  New 
Testament— The  Triumph  of  Law  and  Liberty— Hackett  attacks  the 
Printer —  Hackett's  Complaints — A  Seizure — The  Year  1526  in  Eng- 
land. 

HENRY  was  still  under  the  impression  of  the  famous  Suppli- 
cation of  the  Beggars,  when  Luther's  interference  increased 
his  anger.  The  letter  which,  at  the  advice  of  Christiern, 
king  of  Denmark,  this  reformer  had  written  to  him  in  Sep- 
tember 1525,  had  miscarried.  The  Wittemberg  doctor  hear- 
ing nothing  of  it,  had  boldly  printed  it,  and  sent  a  copy  to 
the  king.  "  I  am  informed,"  said  Luther,  "  that  your  Ma- 
jesty is  beginning  to  favour  the  gospel,  f  and  to  be  disgusted 
with  the  perverse  race  that  fights  against  it  in  your  noble 

kingdom It  is  true  that,  according  to  Scripture,  the  kings 

of  the  earth  take  counsel  together  against  the  Lord,  and  we 
cannot, 'consequently,  expect  to  see  them  favourable  to  the 
truth.  How  fervently  do  I  wish  that  this  miracle  may  be 
accomplished  in  the  person  of  your  Majesty."  J 

We  may  imagine  Henry's  wrath  as  he  read  this  letter. 
"  What ! "  said  he,  "  does  this  apostate  monk  dare  print  a 
letter  addressed  to  us,  without  having  even  sent  it,  or  at  the 


•  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works,  iii.  p.  75  (edit.  Russell), 
f  Majestatem  tuam  ctepisse  fayere  Evangelio.    Cochla-us.  p.  136. 
t  Huic  miraculo  in  Majestate  tua  quam  opto  ex  totis  me'lullis.     Ibid, 
p.  127. 


294  HENRY'S  REPLY. 

least  without  knowing  if  we  have  ever  received  it? And 

as  if  that  were  not  enough,  he  insinuates  that  we  are  among 

his  partisans He  wins  over  also  one  or  two  wretches, 

born  in  our  kingdom,  and  engages  them  to  translate  the 
New  Testament  into  English,  adding  thereto  certain  pre- 
faces and  poisonous  glosses."  Thus  spoke  Henry.  The  idea 
that' his  name  should  be  associated  with  that  of  the  Wittem- 
berg  monk  called  all  the  blood  into  his  face.  He  will  reply 
right  royally  to  such  unblushing  impudence.  He  summoned 
Wolsey  forthwith.  "  Here ! "  said  he,  pointing  to  a  passage 
concerning  the  prelate,  "  here !  read  what  is  said  of  you ! " 
And  then  he  read  aloud :  "  Illud  monstrum  et  publicum  odium 
Dei  et  hominum,  cardinalis  Eboracensis,  pestis  ilia  regni  tui. 
You  see,  my  lord,  you  are  a  monster,  an  object  of  hatred 
both  to  God  and  man,  the  scourge  of  my  kingdom!"  The 
king  had  hitherto  allowed  the  bishops  to  do  as  they  pleased, 
and  observed  a  sort  of  neutrality.  He  now  determined  to 
lay  it  aside  and  begin  a  crusade  against  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ,  but  he  must  first  answer  this  impertinent  letter.  He 
consulted  Sir  Thomas  More,  shut  himself  in  his  closet,  and 
dictated  to  his  secretary  a  reply  to  the  reformer :  "  You  are 
ashamed  of  the  book  you  have  written  against  me,"  he  said, 
"  I  would  counsel  you  to  be  ashamed  of  all  that  you  have 
written.  They  are  full  of  disgusting  errors  and  frantic 
heresies ;  and  are  supported  by  the  most  audacious  obsti- 
nacy. Your  venomous  pen  mocks  the  church,  insults  the 
fathers,  abuses  the  saints,  despises  the  apostles,  dishonours 
the  holy  virgin,  and  blasphemes  God,  by  making  him  the 

author  of  evil And  after  all  that,  you  claim  to  be  an 

author  whose  like  does  not  exist  in  the  world."  * 

"  You  offer  to  publish  a  book  in  my  praise I  thank  you  1 

You  will  praise  me  most  by  abusing  me ;  you  will  dis- 
honour me  beyond  measure  if  you  praise  me.  I  say  with 
Seneca :  Tarn  turpe  tibi  sit  laudari  a  turpibus,  quam  si  lau- 
deris  ob  turpia."-^ 

*  Tantus  autor  haberi  postulas,  quantus  nee  hodic  quisquam  sit.  Coch- 
Iseus,  p.  127. 

t  Let  it  be  as  disgraceful  to  you  to  be  praised  by  the  vile,  as  if  you 
wore  praised  for  vih  deeds. 


LUTHER'S  FIRMNESS.  295 

This  letter,  -written  by  the  Icing  of  the  English  to  the  Icing 
of  the  heretics*  was  immediately  circulated  throughout  Eng- 
land bound  up  with  Luther's  epistle.  Henry,  by  publishing 
it,  put  his  subjects  on  their  guard  against  the  unfaithful 
translations  of  the  New  Testament,  which  were  besides 
about  to  be  burnt  everywhere.  "  The  grapes  seem  beauti- 
ful," he  said,  "  but  beware  how  you  wet  your  lips  with  the 
wine  made  from  them,  for  the  adversary  hath  mingled  poison 
with  it." 

Luther,  agitated  by  this  rude  lesson,  tried  to  excuse  him- 
self. "  I  said  to  myself,  There  are  twelve  hours  in  the  day. 
Who  knows  ?  perhaps  I  may  find  one  lucky  hour  to  gain 
the  king  of  England.  I  therefore  laid  my  humble  epistle 
at  his  feet ;  but  alas !  the  swine  have  torn  it.  I  am  willing 

to  be  silent but  as  regards  my  doctrine,  I  cannot  impose 

silence  on  it.  It  must  cry  aloud,  it  must  bite.  If  any  king 
imagines  he  can  make  me  retract  my  faith,  he  is  a  dreamer. 
So  long  as  one  drop  of  blood  remains  in  my  body,  I  shall 
say  NO.  Emperors,  kings,  the  devil,  and  even  the  whole 
universe,  cannot  frighten  me  when  faith  is  concerned.  I 
claim  to  be  proud,  very  proud,  exceedingly  proud.  If  my 
doctrine  had  no  other  enemies  than  the  king  of  England, 
Duke  George,  the  pope  and  their  allies,  all  these  soap- 
bubbles one  little  prayer  would  long  ago  have  worsted 

them  all.  Where  are  Pilate,  Herod,  and  Caiaphas  now  ? 
Where  are  Nero,  Domitian,  and  Maximilian  ?  Where  are 

Arius,  Pelagius,  and  Manes? — Where  are  they? Where 

all  our  scribes  and  all  our  tyrants  will  soon  be. — But  Christ  ? 
Christ  is  the  same  always. 

"  For  a  thousand  years  the  Holy  Scriptures  have  not 
shone  in  the  world  with  so  much  brightness  as  now.-|-  I  wait 
in  peace  for  my  last  hour ;  I  have  done  what  I  could.  0 
princes,  my  hands  are  clean  from  your  blood ;  it  will  fall  on 
your  own  heads." 

Bowing  before  the  supreme  royalty  of  Jesus  Christ,  Luther 

*  Rex  Anglorum  Regi  haereticornm  scribit.  Strype,  Mem.  i.  p.  91. 
The  title  of  the  pamphlet  was  Litterarvm  quibus  inmctus  Pr.  Henrietta 
VIII.  etc.  etc .  respondit  ad  qnandam  Epistolam  M.  Luihcri  ad  se  missani. 

f  Als  in  t&nsend  Jahren  nicht  gewesen  ist.     Lnth.  Opp.  zix.  p.  501 


296  PERSECUTIONS. 

spoke  thus  boldly  to  King  Henry,  who  contested  the  rights  of 
the  word  of  God. 

A  letter  written  against  the  reformer  was  not  enough  for 
the  bishops.  Profiting  by  the  wound  Luther  had  inflicted 
on  Henry's  self-esteem,  they  urged  him  to  put  down  this 
revolt  of  the  human  understanding,  which  threatened  (as  they 
averred)  both  the  popedom  and  the  monarchy.  They  com- 
menced the  persecution.  Latimer  was  summoned  before 
Wolsey,  but  his  learning  and  presence  of  mind  procured  his 
dismissal.  Bilney  also,  who  had  been  ordered  to  London, 
received  an  injunction  not  to  preach  Luther's  doctrines.  "  I 
will  not  preach  Luther's  doctrines,  if  there  are  any  pecu- 
liar to  him,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  can  and  I  must  preach  the 
doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ,  although  Luther  should  preach  it 
too."  And  finally  Garret,  led  into  the  presence  of  his 'judges, 
was  seized  with  terror,  and  fell  before  the  cruel  threats  of  the 
bishop.  When  restored  to  liberty,  he  fled  from  place  to 
place,*  endeavouring  to  hide  his  sorrow,  and  to  escape  from 
the  despotism  of  the  priests,  awaiting  the  moment  when  he 
should  give  his  life  for  Jesus  Christ. 

The  adversaries  of  the  Reformation  were  not  yet  satisfied. 
The  New  Testament  continued  to  circulate,  and  depots  were 
formed  in  several  convents.  Barnes,  a  prisoner  in  the  Au- 
gustine monastery  in  London,  had  regained  his  courage,  and 
loved  his  Bible  more  and  more.  One  day  about  the  end  of 
September,  as  three  or  four  friends  were  reading  in  his 
chamber,  two  simple  peasants,  John  Tyball  and  Thomas 
Hilles,  natives  of  Bumpstead  in  Essex,  came  in.  "  How 
did  you  come  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  ?  "  asked  Barnes. 
They  drew  from  their  pockets  some  old  volumes  containing 
the  Gospels,  and  a  few  of  the  Epistles  in  English.  Barnes 
returned  them  with  a  smile.  "  They  are  nothing,"  he  told 
them,  "  in  comparison  with  the  new  edition  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament,"-}- a  copy  of  which  the  two  peasants  bought  for  three 
shillings  and  twopence.  "  Hide  it  carefully,"  said  Barnes. 
When  this  came  to  the  ears  of  the  clergy,  Barnes  was  rc- 

*  Foxe,  v.  p.  428. 

t  Which  books  he  did  little  regard,  and  made  a  twit  of  it.    Tybali's 
Confession  in  Bible  Annals,  i.  p.  184. 


BARNES  ESCAPES — ROY's  SATIRE.  207 

moved  to  Northampton  to  be  burnt  at  the  stake ;  but  he 
managed  to  escape ;  his  friends  reported  that  he  was 
drowned ;  and  while  strict  search  was  making  for  him 
during  a  whole  week  along  the  seacoast,  he  secretly  went 
on  board  a  ship,  and  was  carried  to  Germany.  "  The  car- 
dinal will  catch  him  even  now,"  said  the  bishop  of  London, 
"whatever  amount  of  money  it  iray  cost  him."  When 
Barnes  was  told  of  this,  he  remarkec  :  "  I  am  a  poor  simple 
wretch,  not  worth  the  tenth  penny  they  will  give  for  me. 

Besides,  if  they  burn  me,  what  will  they  gain  by  it? 

The  sun  and  the  moon,  fire  and  water,  the  stars  and  the  ele- 
ments— yea,  and  also  stones  shall  defend  this  cause  against 
them,  rather  than  the  truth  should  perish"  Faith  had  re- 
turned to  Barnes's  feeble  heart. 

His  escape  added  fuel  to  the  wrath  of  the  clergy.  They 
proclaimed,  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  England, 
that  the  Holy  Scriptures  contained  an  infectious  poison,* 
and  ordered  a  general  search  after  the  word  of  God.  On  the 
24th  of  October  1526,  the  bishop  of  London  enjoined  on  his 
archdeacons  to  seize  all  translations  of  the  New  Testament 
in  English  with  or  without  glosses ;  and,  a  few  days  later, 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  issued  a  mandate  against  all 
the  books  which  should  contain  "  any  particle  of  the  New 
Testament."f  The  primate  remembered  that  a  spark  was 
sufficient  to  kindle  a  large  fire. 

On  hearing  of  this  order,  William  Roy,  a  sarcastic  writer, 
published  a  violent  satire,  in  which  figured  Judas  (Standish), 
Pilate  (Wolsey),  and  Caiaphas  (Tonstall).  The  author 
exclaimed  with  energy : 

God,  of  his  goodness,  grudged  not  to  die, 

Man  to  deliver  from  deadly  damnation  ; 
Whose  will  is,  that  we  should  know  perfectly 

What  he  here  hath  done  for  our  salvation. 

O  cruel  Caiaphas  !  full  of  crafty  conspiration, 
How  durst  thou  give  them  false  judgment 
To  burn  God's  word — the  Holy  Testament.  £ 

*  Libri  pestiferum  virus  in  re  continentes,  in  promiscuam  provincue 
Cant,  multitudinem  sunt  disporsi     Wilkius,  Concilia,  iii.  p.  706. 
+  Vel  aliqnam  ejus  particular.    Ibid. 

J  Satire  of  W.  Roy,  p-i.ii ted  u  the  Harl.  Misc.  vol.  is.  p.  77,  (ed.  180K). 

N   2 


298  THIRD  EDITION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 

The  efforts  of  Caiaphas  and  his  colleagues  were  indeed 
useless :  the  priests  were  undertaking  a  work  beyond  their 
strength.  If  by  some  terrible  revolution  all  social  forms 
should  be  destroyed  in  the  world,  the  living  church  of  the 
elect,  a  divine  institution  in  the  midst  of  human  institutions, 
would  still  exist  by  the  power  of  God,  like  a  rock  in  the 
midst  of  the  tempest,  and  would  transmit  to  future  genera- 
tions the  seeds  of  Christian  life  and  civilisation.  It  is  the 
same  with  the  word,  the  creative  principle  of  the  church. 
It  cannot  perish  here  below.  The  priests  of  England  had 
something  to  learn  on  this  matter. 

While  the  agents  of  the  clergy  were  carrying  out  the 
archiepiscopal  mandate,  and  a  merciless  search  was  making 
everywhere  for  the  New  Testaments  from  Worms,  a  new 
edition  was  discovered,  fresh  from  the  press,  of  a  smaller  and 
more  portable,  and  consequently  more  dangerous  size.  It 
was  printed  by  Christopher  Eyndhoven  of  Antwerp,  who 
had  consigned  it  to  his  correspondents  in  London.  The 
annoyance  of  the  priests  was  extreme,  and  Hackett,  tile 
agent  of  Henry  VIII.  in  the  Low  Countries,  immediately 
received  orders  to  get  this  man  punished.  "  We  cannot 
deliver  judgment  without  inquiry  into  the  matter,"  said  the 
lords  of  Antwerp ;  "  we  will  therefore  have  the  book  trans- 
lated into  Flemish." — "  God  forbid,"  said  Hackett  in  alarm, 
"  What !  would  you  also  on  your  side  of  the  ocean  translate 
this  book  into  the  language  of  the  people  ?" — "Well  then," 
said  one  of  the  judges,  less  conscientious  than  his  colleagues, 
"  let  the  king  of  England  send  us  a  copy  of  each  of  the  books 
he  has  burnt,  and  we  will  burn  them  likewise."  Hackett 
wrote  to  Wolsey  for  them,  and  as  soon  as  they  arrived  the 
court  met  again.  Eyndhoven's  counsel  called  upon  the  pro- 
secutor to  point  out  the  heresies  contained  in  the  volume. 
The  margrave  (an  officer  of  the  imperial  government)  shrank 
from  the  task,  and  said  to  Hackett,  "  I  give  up  the  busi- 
ness !"  The  charge  against  Eyndhoven  was  dismissed. 

Thus  did  the  Reformation  awaken  in  Europe  the  slumber- 
ing spirit  of  law  and  liberty.  By  enfranchising  thought 
from  the  yoke  of  popery,  it  prepared  the  way  for  other  en- 
franchisements;  and  by  restoring  the  authority  of  the  word 


THE  YEAB  1526  IN  ENGLAND.  299 

of  God,  it  brought  back  the  reign  of  the  law  among  nations 
long  the  prey  of  turbulent  passions  anil  arbitrary  power. 
Then,  as  at  all  times,  religious  society  forestalled  civil  so- 
ciety, and  gave  it  those  two  great  principles  of  order  and 
liberty,  which  popery  compromises  or  annuls.  It  was  not 
in  vain  that  the  magistrates  of  a  Flemish  city,  enlightened 
by  the  first  dawn  of  the  Reformation,  set  so  noble  an  ex- 
ample; the  English,  who  were  very  numerous  in  the  Hanse 
Towns,  thus  learnt  once  more  the  value  of  that  civil  and 
religious  liberty  which  is  the  time-honoured  right  of  Eng- 
land, and  of  which  they  were  in  after-years  to  give  other 
nations  the  so  much  needed  lessons. 

"  Well  then,"  said  Hackett,  who  was  annoyed  at  their 
setting  the  law  above  his  master's  will,  "  I  will  go  and  buy 
all  these  books,  and  send  them  to  the  cardinal,  that  he  may 
burn  them."  With  these  words  he  left  the  court.  But  his 
anger  evaporating,*  he  set  oft"  for  Malines  to  complain  to  the 
regent  and  her  council  of  the  Antwerp  decision.  "  What!" 
said  he,  "  you  punish  those  who  circulate  false  money,  and 
you  will  not  punish  still  more  severely  the  man  who  coins 
it? — in  this  case,  he  is  the  printer."  "  But  that  is  just  the 
point  in  dispute,"  they  replied;  "we  are  not  sure  the  money 
is  false" — " How  can  it  be  otherwise,"  answered  Henry's 
agent,  "since  the  bishops  of  England  have  declared  it  so?" 
The  imperial  government,  which  was  not  very  favourably 
disposed  towards  England,  ratified  Eyndhoven's  acquittal, 
but  permitted  Hackett  to  burn  all  the  copies  of  the  New 
Testament  he  could  seize.  He  hastened  to  profit  by  this 
concession,  and  began  hunting  after  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
while  the  priests  eagerly  came  to  his  assistance.  In  their 
view,  as  well  as  in  that  of  their  English  colleagues,  the  su- 
preme decision  in  matter  of  faith  rested  not  with  the  word 
of  God  but  with  the  pope ;  and  the  best  means  of  securing 
this  privilege  to  the  pontiff  was  to  reduce  the  Bible  to  ashes. 

Notwithstanding  these  trials,  the  year  1526  was  a  memo- 
rable one  for  England.  The  English  New  Testament  had 
been  circulated  from  the  shores  of  the  Channel  to  the  bor- 
ders of  Scotland,  and  the  Reformation  had  begun  in  that 

*  My  choler  was  descended.  Anderson's  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  129. 


300  WOLSEY  DESIRES  TO  BE  REVENGED. 

island  by  the  word  of  God.  The  revival  of  the  sixteenth 
century  was  in  no  country  less  than  in  England  the  emana- 
tion of  a  royal  mandate.  But  God,  who  had  disseminated 
the  Scriptures  over  Britain,  in  defiance  of  the  rulers  of  the 
nation,  was  about  to  make  use  of  their  passions  to  remove 
the  difficulties  which  opposed  the  final  triumph  of  his  plans. 
We  here  enter  upon  a  new  phasis  in  the  history  of  the  Re- 
formation ;  and  having  studied  the  work  of  God  in  the  faith 
of  the  little  ones,  we  proceed  to  contemplate  the  work  of 
man  in  the  intrigues  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Wolsey  desires  to  be  revenged— The  Divorce  suggested — Henry's  Senti- 
ments towards  the  Queen — Wolsey's  first  Steps— Longland's  Proceed- 
ings— Refusal  of  Margaret  of  Valois — Objection  of  the  Bishop  of  Tar- 
bes— Henry's  Uneasiness — Catherine's  Alarm — Mission  to  Spain. 

WOLSEY,  mortified  at  not  being  able  to  obtain  the  pontifical 
throne,  to  which  he  had  so  ardently  aspired,  and  being  espe- 
cially irritated  by  the  ill-will  of  Charles  V.,  meditated  a 
plan  which,  entirely  unsuspected  by  him,  was  to  lead  to  the 
enfranchisement  of  England  from  the  papal  yoke.  "  They 
laugh  at  me,  and  thrust  me  into  the  second  rank,"  he  had 
exclaimed.  "  So  be  it !  I  will  create  such  a  confusion  in 

the  world  as  has  not  been  seen  for  ages I  will  do  it,  even 

should  England  be  swallowed  up  in  the  tempest!"*  De- 
sirous of  exciting  imperishable  hatred  between  Henry  VIII. 
and  Charles  V.,  he  had  undertaken  to  break  the  marriage 
which  Henry  VII.  and  Ferdinand  the  Catholic  had  planned 
to  unite  for  ever  their  families  and  their  crowns.  His 
hatred  of  Charles  was  not  his  only  motive.  Catherine  had 
reproached  him  for  his  dissolute  Hfe,f  and  he  had  sworn  to 
be  revenged.  There  can  be  no  doubt  about  Wolsey's  share 

*  Sandoval,  i.  p.  358.    Rauke,  Deutsche  Gesch.  iii.  p.  17« 
f  Malos  oderat  mores.    Polyd.  Virg.  p.  685. 


THE  DIVORCE  SUGGESTED.  SOi 

in  the  matter.  "  The  first  terms  of  the  divorce  were  put 
forward  by  me,"  he  told  the  French  ambassador.  "  I  did 
it,"  he  added,  "  to  cause  a  lasting  separation  between  the 
houses  of  England  and  Burgundy."*  The  best  informed 
writers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  men  of  the  most  opposite 
parties,  Pole,  Polydore  Virgil,  Tyndale,  Meteren,  Pallavicini, 
Sanders,  and  Roper,  More's  son-in-law,  all  agree  in  point- 
ing to  Wolsey  as  the  instigator  of  that  divorce,  which  has 
become  so  famous.-j-  lie  desired  to  go  still  farther,  and 
after  inducing  the  king  to  put  away  his  queen,  he  hoped  to 
prevail  on  the  pope  to  depose  the  emperor.^  It  was  not  his 
passion  for  Anne  Boleyn,  as  so  many  of  the  Romish  fabu- 
lists have  repeated,  but  the  passion  of  a  cardinal  for  the 
triple  crown  which  gave  the  signal  of  England's  emancipa- 
tion. Offended  pride  is  one  of  the  most  active  principles  of 
human  nature. 

"Wolsey's  design  was  a  strange  one,  and  difficult  of  execu- 
tion, but  not  impossible.  Henry  was  living  apparently  on 
the  best  terms  with  Catherine  ;  on  more  than  one  occasion 
Erasmus  had  spoken  of  the  royal  family  of  England  as  the 
pattern  of  the  domestic  virtues.  But  the  most  ardent  of 
Henry's  desires  was  not  satisfied ;  he  had  no  son ;  those 
whom  the  queen  had  borne  him  had  died  in  their  infancy, 
and  Mary  alone  survived.  The  deaths  of  these  little  chil- 
dren, at  all  times  so  heartrending,  were  particularly  so  in 
the  palace  of  Greenwich.  It  appeared  to  Catherine  that 
the  shade  of  the  last  Plantagenet,  immolated  on  her  mar- 
riage-altar, came  forth  to  seize  one  after  another  the  heirs 
she  gave  to  the  throne  of  England,  and  to  carry  them  away 
to  his  tomb.  The  queen  shed  tears  almost  unceasingly,  and 
implored  the  divine  mercy,  while  the  king  cursed  his  un- 

*  Le  Grand,  Hist,  du  divorce,  Preuves,  p.  186. 

t  Instigator  et  auctor  concilii  existimabatur  (Pole,  Apology).  He 
was  furious  mad,  and  imagined  this  divorcement  between  the  king  and 
the  queen  (Tyndale's  Works,  i.  p.  465).  See  also  Sanderus,  7  and  9  ; 
Polyd.  Virg.  p.  685  ;  Meteren,  Hist,  of  the  Low  Countries,  p  20  ;  Palla- 
vicini, Cone.  Trident,  i.  p.  203,  etc.  A  contrary  assertion  of  Wolsey's 
hao  been  adduced  against  these  authorities  in  the  Pamphleteer,  No.  4'2, 
p.  336  ;  but  a  slight  acquaintance  with  his  history  soon  teaches  us  that 
veracity  was  the  least  of  his  virtues. 

£  Le  Grand,  Hist,  du  divorce,  Preuves,  p.  65,  69. 


302          HENRY'S  SENTIMENTS  TOWARDS  THE  QUEEN. 

happy  fate.  The  people  seemed  to  share  in  the  royal  sor- 
row ;  and  men  of  learning  and  piety  (Lon gland  was  among 
their  number)*  declared  against  the  validity  of  the  marriage. 
They  said  that  "  the  papal  dispensations  had  no  force  when 
in  opposition  to  the  law  of  God."  Yet  hitherto  Henry  had 
rejected  every  idea  of  a  divorce.-j- 

The  times  had  changed  since  1509.  The  king  had  loved 
Catherine  ;  her  reserve,  mildness,  and  dignity,  had  charmed 
him.  Greedy  of  pleasure  and  applause,  he  was  delighted  to 
see  his  wife  content  to  be  the  quiet  witness  of  his  joys  and 
of  his  triumphs.  But  gradually  the  queen  had  grown  older, 
her  Spanish  gravity  had  increased,  her  devout  practices  were 
multiplied,  and  her  infirmities,  become  more  frequent,  had  left 
the  king  no  hope  of  having  a  son.  From  that  hour,  even  while 
continuing  to  praise  her  virtues,  Henry  grew  cold  towards 
her  person,  and  his  love  -by  degrees  changed  into  repug- 
nance. And  then  he  thought  that  the  death  of  his  children 
might  be  a  sign  of  God's  anger.  This  idea  had  taken  hold 
of  him,  and  induced  him  to  occupy  apartments  separate  from 
the  queen's.:}: 

Wolsey  judged  the  moment  favourable  for  beginning  the 
attack.  It  was  in  the  latter  months  of  1526,  when  calling 
Longland,  the  king's  confessor,  to  him,  and  concealing  his 
principal  motive,  he  said :  "  You  know  his  majesty's  anguish. 
The  stability  of  his  crown  and  his  everlasting  salvation 
seem  to  be  compromised  alike.  To  whom  can  I  unbosom 
myself,  if  not  to  you,  who  must  know  the  inmost  secrets  of 
his  soul?"  The  two  bishops  resolved  to  awaken  Henry  to 
the  perils  incurred  by  his  union  with  Catherine ;  §  but  Long- 
land  insisted  that  Wolsey  should  take  the  first  steps. 

The  cardinal  waited  upon  the  king,  and  reminded  him  of 
his  scruples  before  the  betrothal ;  he  exaggerated  those  en- 
tertained by  the  nation,  and  speaking  with  unusual  warmth, 


*  Jampridem  conjugium  regium,  veluti  infirmum.    Polyd.  Virg  p.  G85. 

•f-  That  matrimony  which  the  king  at  first  seemed  not  disposed  to  an- 
nul. Strype,  i.  p.  135. 

J  Burnet,  vol.  i.  p.  20  (London,  1841).  Letter  from  Grynseus  to  Bucer. 
Strype,  i.  p.  135. 

§  Quamprimum  regi  patefaciendum.    Polyd.  Virg.  p.  685. 


WOLSEY'S  FIRST  STEPS — PROPOSES  MARGARET.        303 

he  entreated  the  king  to  remain  no  longer  in  such  danger  :* 
"  The  holiness  of  your  life  and  the  legitimacy  of  your  succes- 
sion are  at  stake." — "  My  good  father,"  said  Henry,  "  you 
would  do  well  to  consider  the  weight  of  the  stone  that  you 
have  undertaken  to  move.f  The  queen  is  a  woman  of  such 
exemplary  life  that  I  have  no  motive  for  separating  from 
her." 

The  cardinal  did  not  consider  himself  beaten ;  three  days 
later  he  appeared  before  the  king  accompanied  by  the  bishop 
of  Lincoln.  "  Most  mighty  prince,"  said  the  confessor,  who 
felt  bold  enough  to  speak  after  the  cardinal,  "  you  cannot, 
like  Herod,  have  your  brother's  wife.J  I  exhort  and  con- 
jure you,  as  having  the  care  of  your  soul,§  to  submit  the 
matter  to  competent  judges."  Henry  consented,  and  per- 
haps not  unwillingly. 

It  was  not  enough  for  Wolsey  to  separate  Henry  from 
the  emperor ;  he  must,  for  greater  security,  unite  him  to 
Francis  I.  The  king  of  England  shall  repudiate  the  aunt  of 
Charles  V.,  and  then  marry  the  sister  of  the  French  king. 
Proud  of  the  success  he  had  obtained  in  the  first  part  of  his 
plan,  Wolsey  entered  upon  the  second.  "  There  is  a  prin- 
cess," he  told  the  king,  "  whose  birth,  graces,  and  talents 
charm  all  Europe.  Margaret  of  Valois,  sister  of  King  Fran- 
cis, is  superior  to  all  of  her  sex,  and  no  one  is  worthier  of 
your  alliance."  ||  Henry  made  answer  that  it  was  a  serious 
matter,  requiring  deliberate  examination.  Wolsey,  how- 
ever, placed  in  the  king's  hands  a  portrait  of  Margaret,  and 
it  has  been  imagined  that  he  even  privily  caused  her  senti- 
ments to  be  sounded.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  sister  of 
Francis  I.  having  learnt  that  she  was  pointed  at  as  the  fu- 
ture queen  of  England,  rebelled  at  the  idea  of  taking  from  an 
innocent  woman  a  crown  she  had  Avorn  so  nobly.  "  The 

*  Vehcmenter  oral  ne  se  patiatur  in  tanto  versari  discrimine.  Polyd. 
Virg.  p.  685. 

t  Bone  pater,  Tide  beno  qualo  saxum  suo  loco  jacens  movero  coneris. 
Ibid. 

£  Like  another  Herodes.    More 'a  Life,  p.  129. 

§  Ipsecuide  salute  animae  tuae  cura  est,hortor,rogo,  persuadeo,  Folyd. 
Virg.  p.  686. 

y  Mulier  prater  cseteras  digna  matrimonio  tuo. 


304  COMMISSION  OF  INQUIRY. 

French  king's  sister  knows  too  much  of  Christ  to  consent 
unto  such  wickedness,"  said  Tyndale.*  Margaret  of  Valois 
replied  :  "  Let  me  hear  no  more  of  a  marriage  that  can  be 
effected  only  at  the  expense  of  Catherine  of  Aragon's  happi- 
ness and  life."f  The  woman  who  was  destined  in  future 
years  to  fill  the  throne  of  England  was  then  residing  at  Mar- 
garet's court.  Shortly  after  this,  on  the  24th  of  January 
1527,  the  sister  of  Francis  I.  married  Henry  d'Albret,  king 
of  Navarre. 

Henry  VIIL,  desirous  of  information  with  regard  to  his 
favourite's  suggestion,  commissioned  Fox,  his  almoner,  Pace, 
dean  of  St  Paul's,  and  Wakefield,  professor  of  Hebrew  at 
Oxford,  to  study  the  passages  of  Leviticus  and  Deutero- 
nomy which  related  to  marriage  with  a  brother's  wife. 
Wakefield,  who  had  no  wish  to  commit  himself,  asked  whe- 
ther Henry  was  for  or  against  the  divorce.:j:  Pace  replied  to 
this  servile  hebraist  that  the  king  wanted  nothing  but  the 
truth. 

But  who  would  take  the  first  public  step  in  an  undertak- 
ing so  hazardous  ?  Every  one  shrank  back ;  the  terrible 
emperor  alarmed  them  all.  It  was  a  French  bishop  that 
hazarded  the  step ;  bishops  meet  us  at  every  turn  in  this 
affair  of  the  divorce,  with  which  bishops  have  so  violently  re- 
proached the  Reformation.  Henry,  desirous  of  excusing  Wol- 
*  sey,  pretended  afterwards  that  the  objections  of  the  French 
prelate  had  preceded  those  of  Longland  and  the  cardinal. 
In  February  1527,  Francis  I.  had  sent  an  embassy  to 
London,  at  the  head  of  which  was  Gabriel  de  Grammont, 
bishop  of  Tarbes,  with  the  intention  to  procure  the  hand  of 
Mary  of  England.  Henry's  ministers  having  inquired  whe- 
ther the  engagement  of  Francis  with  the  queen-dowager  of 
Portugal  did  not  oppose  the  commission  with  which  the 
French  bishop  was  charged,  the  latter  answered :  "  I  will 
ask  you  in  turn  what  has  been  done  to  remove  the  im- 
pediments which  opposed  the  marriage  of  which  the  Princess 

*  Works  (ed.  Russell),  i.  p.  464. 

•f-  Princeps  ilia,  mulier  optima,  noluerit  quicqnam  audire  de  nuptiis, 
quae  nuptiso  non  possunt  conjungi  sine  miserabili  Catharinse  casu  atquo 
adeo  interitu.  Polyd.  Virg.  p.  687. 

t  Utrum  staret  ad  te  an  contra  te  1    Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  2. 


HENRY'S  UNEASINESS.  305 

Mary  is  issue."*  They  laid  before  the  ambassador  the  dis- 
pensation of  Julius  II.,  which  he  returned,  saying,  that  the 
bull  was  not  sufficient,  seeing  that  such  a  marriage  was  for- 
bidden jure  divino  ;f  and  he  added :  "  Have  you  English  a 
different  gospel  from  ours?"| 

The  king,  when  he  heard  these  words  (as  he  informs  us 
himself),  was  filled  with  fear  and  horror.§  Three  of  the  most 
respected  bishops  of  Christendom  united  to  accuse  him  of 
incest !  He  began  to  speak  of  it  to  certain  individuals : 
"  The  scruples  of  my  conscience  have  been  terribly  in- 
creased (he  said)  since  the  bishop  spoke  of  this  matter  be- 
fore my  council  in  exceedingly  plain  words."  ||  There  is  no 
reason  to  believe  that  these  terrible  troubles  of  which  the 
king  speaks  were  a  mere  invention  on  his  part.  A  disputed 
succession  might  again  plunge  England  into  civil  war. 
Even  if  no  pretenders  should  spring  up,  might  they  not  see  a 
rival  house,  a  French  prince  for  instance,  wedded  to  Henry's 
daughter,  reigning  over  England  ?  .The  king,  in  his  anxiety, 
had  recourse  to  his  favourite  author,  Thomas  Aquinas,  and 
this  angel  of  the  schools  declared  his  marriage  unlawful. 
Henry  next  opened  the  Bible,  and  found  this  threat  against 
the  man  who  took  his  brother's  wife :  "  He  shall  be  child- 
less ! "  The  denunciation  increased  his  trouble,  for  he  had 
no  heir.  In  the  midst  of  this  darkness  a  new  perspective 
opened  before  him.  His  conscience  might  be  unbound  ;  his 
desire  to  have  a  younger  wife  might  be  gratified ;  he  might 
have  a  son ! The  king  resolved  to  lay  the  matter  before 

*  What  had  been  here  provided  for  taking  away  the  impediment  of 
that  marriage.  (State  Papers,  i.  p.  199.)  Le  Grand,  (i.  p.  17,)  dis- 
credits the  objections  of  the  bishop  of  Tarbes  ;  but  this  letter  from  Wol- 
sey  to  Henry  VIII.  establishes  them  incontrovertibly.  And  besides,  Du 
Bellay,  in  a  letter  afterwards  quoted  by  Le  Grand  himself,  states  the 
matter  still  more  strongly  than  Wolsey. 

+  Wherewith  the  pope  could  not  dispense,  nisi  ex  urgentissima  causa. 
Wolsey  to  Henry  VIII.,  dated  8th  July.  State  Papers,  i.  p.  199. 

£  Anglos,  qui  tuo  impcrio  subsunt,  hoc  idem  evangelium  colerc  quod  nos 
colimus.  Sanders,  12. 

§  Quae  oratio  quanto  metu  ac  horrore  animum  nostrum  turbaverit. 
Henry's  speech  to  the  Lord  Mayor  and  common  council  at  his  palace  of 
Bridewell,  8th  November  1528.  Hal),  p.  754  ;  Wilkins,  Concil.  iii.  p.  714. . 

||  Du  Bellay's  letter  in  I.e  Grand.     Prenves,  p.  218. 

VOL.  V.  14 


306  CATHERINE'S  ALARM. 

a  commission  of  lawyers,  and  this  commission  soon  wrote 
volumes.* 

During  all  this  time  Catherine,  suspecting  no  evil,  was 
occupied  in  her  devotions.  Her  heart,  bruised  by  the  death 
of  her  children  and  by  the  king's  coldness,  sought  consola- 
tion in  prayer  both  privately  and  in  the  royal  chapel.  She 
would  rise  at  midnight  and  kneel  down  upon  the  cold 
stones,  and  never  missed  any  of  the  canonical  services.  But 
one  day  (probably  in  May  or  June  1527)  some  officious  per- 
son informed  her  of  the  rumours  circulating  in  the  city  and 
at  court.  Bursting  with  anger  and  alarm,  and  all  in  tears, 
she  hastened  to  the  king,  and  addressed  him  with  the  bit- 
terest complaints.-!  Henry  was  content  to  calm  her  by 
vague  assurances ;  but  the  unfeeling  Wolsey,  troubling  him- 
self still  less  than  his  master  about  Catherine's  emotion, 
called  it,  with  a  smile,  "  a  short  tragedy." 

The  offended  wife  lost  no  time :  it  was  necessary  that  the 
emperor  should  be  informed  promptly,  surely,  and  accurately 
of  this  unprecedented  insult.  A  letter  would  be  insufficient, 
even  were  it  not  intercepted.  Catherine  therefore  deter- 
mined to  send  her  servant  Francis  Philip,  a  Spaniard,  to  her 
nephew ;  and  to  conceal  the  object  of  his  journey,  they  pro- 
ceeded, after  the  tragedy,  to  play  a  comedy  in  the  Spanish 
style.  "  My  mother  is  sick  and  desires  to  see  me,"  said 
Philip.  Catherine  begged  the  king  to  refuse  her  servant's 
prayer;  and  Henry,  divining  the  stratagem,  resolved  to 
employ  trick  against  trick.J  "  Philip's  request  is  very  pro- 
per," he  made  answer;  and  Catherine,  from  regard  to  her 
husband,  consented  to  his  departure.  Henry  meantime  had 
given  orders  that,  "  notwithstanding  any  safe-conduct,  the 
said  Philip  should  be  arrested  and  detained  at  Calais,  in 
such  a  manner,  however,  that  no  one  should  know  whence 
the  stoppage  proceeded." 

It  was  to  no  purpose  that  the  queen  indulged  in  a  cul- 

*  So  as  the  books  excrescunt  in  magna  Tolumina.  Wolsey  to  Henry 
VIII.  State  Papers,  i.  p.  200. 

•t  The  queen  hath  broken  with  your  grace  thereof.  State  Papers,  i. 
p.  200. 

t  The  king's  highness  knowing  great  collusion  and  dissimulation  be- 
tween them,  doth  also  dissemble.  Knight  to  Wolsev  Tbid,  p.  215. 


THE  SECRET  BETRAYED.  307 

pable  dissimulation ;  a  poisoned  arrow  had  pierced  her 
heart,  and  her  words,  her  manners,  her  complaints,  her 
tears,  the  numerous  messages  she  sent,  now  to  one  and  now 
to  another,  betrayed  the  secret  which  the  king  wished  still 
to  conceal.*  Her  friends  blamed  her  for  this  publicity ;  men 
wondered  what  Charles  would  say  when  he  heard  of  his 
aunt's  distress;  they  feared  that  peace  would  be  broken; 
but  Catherine,  whose  heart  was  "  rent  in  twain,"  was  not  to 
be  moved  by  diplomatic  considerations.  Her  sorrow  did 
not  check  Henry ;  with  the  two  motives  which  made  him 
eager  for  a  divorce — the  scruples  of  his  conscience  and  the 
desire  of  an  heir — was  now  combined  a  third  still  more 
forcible.  A  woman  was  about  to  play  an  important  part  in 
the  destinies  of  England. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Anne  Boleyn  appointed  Maid  of  Honour  to  Catherine — Lord  Percy  be- 
comes attached  to  her — Wolsey  separates  them — Anne  enters  Mar- 
garet's Household — Siege  of  Rome  ;  Cromwell — Wolsey's  Intercession 
for  the  Popedom— He  demands  the  Hand  of  Hence  of  France  for 
Henry — Failure— Anne  reappears  at  Court— Repels  the  King's  Ad- 
Tances— Henry's  Letter — He  resolves  to  accelerate  the  Divorce— Two 
Motives  which  induce  Anne  to  refuse  the  Crown — Wolsey  a  Opposi- 
tion. 

ANNE  BOLEYN,  who  had  been  placed  by  her  father  at  the 
court  of  France,  had  returned  to  England  with  Sir  Thomas, 
then  ambassador  at  Paris,  at  the  time  that  an  English 
army  made  an  incursion  into  Normandy  (1522).  It  would 
appear  that  she  was  presented  to  the  queen  about  this 
period,  and  appointed  one  of  Catherine's  maids  of  honour. 
The  following  year  was  a  memorable  one  to  her  from  her 
first  sorrow. 

•  By  her  behaviour,  manner,  words,  and  messages  sent  to  diverse, 
hath  published,  divulged,  &c.    State  Papers,  i.  p.  200. 


308  ANNE  BOLEYN  AND  LORD  PERCY. 

Among  the  young  noblemen  in  the  cardinal's  household 
was  Lord  Percy,  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland. 
While  Wolsey  was  closeted  with  the  king,  Percy  was 
accustomed  to  resort  to  the  queen's  apartments,  where  he 
passed  the  time  among  her  ladies.  He  soon  felt  a  sincere 
passion  for  Anne,  and  the  young  maid  of  honour,  who  had 
been  cold  to  the  addresses  of  the  gentlemen  at  the  court  of 
Francis,  replied  to  the  affections  of  the  heir  of  Northumber- 
land. The  two  young  people  already  indulged  in  day- 
dreams of  a  quiet,  elegant,  and  happy  life  in  their  noble 
castles  of  the  north ;  but  such  dreams  were  fated  to  be  of 
short  duration. 

Wolsey  hated  the  Norfolks,  and  consequently  the  Bo- 
leyns.  It  was  to  counterbalance  their  influence  that  he  had 
been  first  introduced  at  court.  He  became  Angry,  therefore, 
when  he  saw  one  of  his  household  suing  for  the  hand  of  the 
daughter,  and  niece  of  his  enemies.  Besides,  certain  parti- 
sans of  the  clergy  accused  Anne  of  being  friendly  to  the 

Reformation.* It  is  generally  believed  that  even  at  this 

period  Wolsey  had  discovered  Henry's  eyes  turned  compla- 
cently on  the  young  maid  of  honour,  and  that  this  induced 
him  to  thwart  Percy's  love ;  but  this  seems  improbable.  Of 
all  the  women  in  England,  Anne  was  the  one  whose  influ- 
ence Wolsey  would  have  had  most  cause  to  fear,  and  he 
really  did  fear  it ;  and  he  would  have  been  but  too  happy 
to  see  her  married  to  Percy.  ,  It  has  been  asserted  that 
Henry  prevailed  on  the  cardinal  to  thwart  the  affection  of 
the  two  young  people ;  but  in  that  case  did  he  confide  to 
Wolsey  the  real  motive  of  his  opposition  ?  Did  the  latter 
entertain  criminal  intentions?  Did  he  undertake  to  yield 
up  to  dishonour  the  daughter  and  niece  of  his  political  ad- 
versaries ?  This  would  be  horrible,  but  it  is  possible,  and 
may  even  be  deduced  from  Cavendish's  narrative ;  yet  we 
will  hope  that  it  was  not  so.  If  it  were,  Anne's  virtue  suc- 
cessfully baffled  the  infamous  plot. 

But  be  that  as  it  may,  one  day  when  Percy  was  in  at- 
tendance  upon   the  cardinal,   the  latter  rudely  addressed 
him :  "  I  marvel  at  your  folly,  that  you  should  attempt  to 
*  Meteren's  Hist,  of  the  Low  Countries,  folio,  5>< . 


ANNE  IN  MARGARET'S  HOUSEHOLD.  309 

contract  yourself  with  that  girl  without  your  father's  or  the 
king's  consent.  I  command  you  to  break  with  her."  Percy 
burst  into  tears,  and  besought  the  cardinal  to  plead  his 
cause.  "  I  charge  you  to  resort  no  more  into  her  company," 
was  Wolsey's  cold  reply,*  after  which  he  rose  up  and  left 
the  room.  Anne  received  an  order  at  the  same  time  to 
leave  the  court.  Proud  and  bold,  and  ascribing  her  misfor- 
tune to  Wolsey's  hatred,  she  exclaimed  as  she  quitted  the 
palace,  "  I  will  be  revenged  for  this  insult."  But  she  had 
scarcely  taken  up  her  abode  in  the  gothic  halls  of  Hever 
Castle,  when  news  still  more  distressing  overwhelmed  her. 
Percy  was  married  to  Lady  Mary  Talbot.  She  wept  long 
and  bitterly,  and  vowed  against  the  young  nobleman  who 
had  deserted  her  a  contempt  equal  to  her  hatred  of  the  car- 
dinal. Anne  was  reserved  for  a  more  illustrious,  but  more 
unhappy  fate. 

This  event  necessarily  rendered  her  residence  in  this 
country  far  from  attractive  to  Anne  Boleyn.  "  She  did  not 
stay  long  in  England,"  says  Burnet,  following  Camden : 
"  she  served  Queen  Claude  of  France  till  her  death,  and 
after  that  she  was  taken  into  service  by  King  Francis' 
sister."  Anne  Boleyn,  lady-in-waiting  to  Margaret  of  Va- 
lois,  was  consoled  at  last.  She  indulged  in  gaieties  with  all 
the  vivacity  of  her  age,  and  glittered  among  the  youngest 
and  the  fairest  at  all  the  court  festivities. 

In  Margaret's  house  she  met  the  most  enlightened  men  of 
the  age,  and  her  understanding  and  heart  were  developed 
simultaneously  with  the  graces.  She  began  to  read,  with- 
out thoroughly  understanding  it,  the  holy  book  in  which 
her  mistress  (as  Brantome  informs  us)  found  consolation 
and  repose,  and  to  direct  a  few  light  and- passing  thoughts 
to  that  "  mild  Emanuel,"  to  whom  Margaret  addressed  such 
beautiful  verses. 

At  last  Anne  returned  definitively  to  England.  It  has 
been  asserted  that  the  queen-regent,  fearing  that  Henry 
after  the  balUe  of  Pavia  would  invade  France,  had  sent 
Anne  to  London  to  dissuade  him  from  it.  But  it  was  a 

*  Cavendish's  Wolaey,  p.  123.  Cavendish  was  present  at  this  conver- 
sation. 


310  CAPTURE  OF  ROME — CROMWELL. 

stronger  voice  than  hers  which  stopped  the  king  of  England. 
"  Remain  quiet,"  wrote  Charles  V.  to  him ;  "  I  have  the 
stag  in  my  net,  and  we  have  only  to  think  of  sharing  the 
spoils."  Margaret  of  Valois  having  married  the  king  of 
Navarre  at  the  end  of  January  1527,  and  quitted  Paris  and 
her  brothers  court,  it  is  supposed  that  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn 
who  was  unwilling  that  his  daughter  should  take  up  her 
abode  in  the  Pyrenees,  recalled  her  to  England  probably  in 
the  winter  or  spring  of  the  same  year.  "  There  is  not  the 
least  evidence  that  she  came  to  it  earlier,"  says  a  modern 
author.*  She  appeared  once  more  at  court,  and  the  niece  of 
the  duke  of  Norfolk  soon  eclipsed  her  companions,  "  by  her 
excellent  gesture  and  behaviour,"  -J-  as  we  learn  from  a  con- 
temporary unfriendly  to  the  Boleyns.  All  the  court  was 
struck  by  the  regularity  of  her  features,  the  expression  of 
her  eyes,  the  gentleness  of  her  manners,  and  the  majesty  of 
her  carriage.  J  "  She  was  a  beautiful  creature,"  says  an 
old  historian,  "  well  proportioned,  courteous,  amiable,  very 
agreeable,  and  a  skilful  musician." § 

While  entertainments  were  following  close  upon  each 
other  at  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.,  a  strange  rumour  filled 
all  England  with  surprise.  It  was  reported  that  the  im- 
perialist soldiers  had  taken  Rome  by  assault,  and  that  some 
Englishmen  were  among  those  who  had  mounted  the  breach. 
One  Thomas  Cromwell  was  specially  named  || — the  man 
who  nearly  twenty  years  before  had  obtained  certain  indul- 
gences from  Julius  II.,  by  offering  him  some  jars  of  English 
confectionary.  This  soldier  carried  with  him  the  New  Tes- 
tament of  Erasmus,  and  he  is  said  to  have  learnt  it  by 
heart  during  the  campaign.  Being  gay,  brave,  and  intelli- 
gent, he  entertained,  from  reading  the  gospel  and  seeing 
Rome,  a  great  aversion  for  the  policy,  superstitions,  and  dis- 
orders of  the  popedom.  The  day  of  the  7th  May  1527  de- 
cided the  tenor  of  his  life.  To  destroy  the  papal  power 

*  Turner,  Hist.  Henry  VIII.  ii.  p.  185. 
t  Cavendish's  Life  of  Wolsey,  p.  120.  • 

J  Memoirs  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  in  Cavendish's  Life  of  Wolsey,  p, 
424. 

§  Metercn's  Hist,  of  the  Low  Countries,  folio,  20. 
y  Foxe,  vol.  v.  p.  365. 


WOLSEY'S  EMBASSY  TO  FRANCE.  311 

became  his  dominant  idea.    On  returning  to  England  he 
entered  the  cardinal's  household. 

However,  the  captive  pope  and  cardinals  wrote  letters 
"  filled  with  tears  and  groans."*  Full  of  zeal  for  the  papacy, 
Wolsey  ordered  a  public  fast.  "The  emperor  will  never 
release  the  pope,  unless  he  be  compelled,"  he  told  the  king. 
"  Sir,  God  has  made  you  defender  of  the  faith ;  save  the 
church  and  its  head ! " — "  My  lord,"  answered  the  king  with 
a  smile,  "  I  assure  you  that  this  war  between  the  emperor 
and  the  pope  is  not  for  the  faith,  but  for  temporal  posses- 
sions and  dominions." 

But  Wolsey  would  not  be  discouraged ;  and,  on  the  3d  of 
July,  he  passed  through  the  streets  of  London,  riding  a 
richly  caparisoned  mule,  and  resting  his  feet  on  gilt  stirrups, 
while  twelve  hundred  gentlemen  accompanied  him  on  horse- 
back. He  was  going  to  entreat  Francis  to  aid  his  master 
in  saving  Clement  VII.  He  had  found  no  difficulty  in  pre- 
vailing upon  Henry ;  Charles  talked  of  carrying  the  pope  to 
Spain,  and  of  permanently  establishing  the -apostolic  see  in 
that  country .-j-  Now,  how  could  they  obtain  the  divorce 
from  a  Spanish  pope?  During  the  procession,  Wolsey 
seemed  oppressed  with  grief,  and  even  shed  tears ;  J  but  he 
soon  raised  his  head  and  exclaimed :  "  My  heart  is  inflamed, 
and  I  wish  that  it  may  be  said  of  the  pope  per  secula  sem- 
piterna, 

M  Rediit  Henrici  octavi  virtute  serena." 

Desirous  of  forming  a  close  union  between  France  and 
England  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  designs,  he  had  cast 
his  eyes  on  the  Princess  Renee,  daughter  of  Louis  XII.,  and 
sister-in-law  to  Francis  I.,  as  the  future  wife  of  Henry 
VIII.  Accordingly  the  treaty  of  alliance  between  the  two 
crowns  having  been  signed  at  Amiens  on  the  18th  of  August 
(1527),  Francis,  with  his  mother  and  the  cardinal,  pro- 
ceeded to  Compiegne,  and  there  Wolsey,  styling  Charles  the 

*  Plenas  lacrymarum  et  miseriae.    State  Papers,  vol.  i. 
•f-  The  see  apostolic  should  perpetually  remain  in  Spain.    Ibid.  i.  p 
227. 
£  I  saw  the  lord  cardinal  weep  very  tenderly.    Cavendish,  p.  151. 


312  HE  DEMANDS  KENEE  FOR  THE  KING. 

most  obstinate  defender  of  Lutheranism,*  promising  "  per- 
petual conjunction  on  the  one  hand  [between  France  and 
England],  and  perpetual  disjunction  on  the  other"  [between 
England  and  Germany],f  demanded  Renee's  hand  for  King 
Henry.  Staffileo,  dean  of  Rota,  affirmed  that  the  pope  had 
been  able  to  permit  the  marriage  between  Henry  and 
Catherine  only  by  an  error  of  the  keys  of  St  Peter.J  This 
avowal,  so  remarkable  on  the  part  of  the  dean  of  one  of  the 
first  jurisdictions  of  Rome,  induced  Francis'  mother  to  listen 
favourably  to  the  cardinal's  demand.  But  whether  this 
proposal  was  displeasing  to  Renee,  who  was  destined  on  a 
future  day  to  profess  the  pure  faith  of  the  Gospel  with 
greater  earnestness  than  Margaret  of  Valois,  or  whether 
Francis  was  not  over-anxious  for  a  union  that  would  have 
given  Henry  rights  over  the  duchy  of  Brittany,  she  was 
promised  to  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara.  It  was  a  check 
to  the  cardinal ;  but  it  was  his  ill  fortune  to  receive  one  still 
more  severe  on  his  return  to  England. 

The  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  (who  had  been 
created  Viscount  Rochford  in  1525,)  was  constantly  at  court, 
"  where  she  flourished  in  great  estimation  and  favour,"  says 
Cavendish,  "having  always  a  private  indignation  against 
the  cardinal  for  breaking  off  the  pre-contract  made  between 
Lord  Percy  and  her,"  little  suspecting  that  Henry  had  had 
any  share  in  it.§  Her  beauty,  her  graceful  carriage,  her 
black  hair,  oval  face,  and  bright  eyes,  her  sweet  voice  in 
singing,  her  skill  and  dignity  in  the  dance,  her  desire  to 
please,  which  was  not  entirely  devoid  «tof  coquetry,  her 
sprightliness,  the  readiness  of  her  repartees,  and  above  all 
the  amiability  of  her  character,  won  every  heart.  She 
brought  to  Greenwich  and  to  London  the  polished  manners 
of  the  court  of  Francis  I.  Every  day  (it  was  reported)  she 
invented  a  new  style  of  dress,  and  set  the  fashion  in  Eng- 
land. But  to  all  these  qualities,  she  added  modesty,  and 

*  Omnium  maxime  dolosus  et  haeresis  Lutherianae  fautor  acerrimus. 
State  Papers,  i.  p.  274. 

•f  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,  i.  p.  186. 

J  Nisi  clave  errante.    State  Papers,  i.  p.  272. 

§  For  all  this  while  she  knew  nothing  of  the  king's  intended  purpose, 
said  one  of  his  adversaries.  Cavendish's  Wolsey,  p.  129. 


ANNE  BOLEYN'S  SUCCESS — REJECTS  THE  KING.         313 

even  imposed  it  on  others  by  her  example.  The  ladies  of 
the  court,  who  had  hitherto  adopted  a  different  fashion  (says 
her  greatest  enemy),  covered  the  neck  and  bosom  as  she 
did;*  and  the  malicious,  unable  to  appreciate  Anne's  mo- 
tives, ascribed  this  modesty  on  the  young  lady's  part  to  a 
desire  to  hide  a  secret  deformity,  f  Numerous  admirers 
once  more  crowded  round  Anne  Boleyn,  and  among  others, 
one  of  the  most  illustrious  noblemen  and  poets  of  England, 
Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  a  follower  of  Wickliffe.  He,  howeves, 
was  not  the  man  destined  to  replace  the  son  of  the  Percies. 

Henry,  absorbed  in  anxiety  about  his  divorce  from  Ca- 
therine, had  become  low-spirited  and  melancholy.  The 
laughter,  songs,  repartees,  and  beauty  of  Anne  Boleyn 
struck  and  captivated  him,  and  his  eyes  were  soon  fixed 
complacently  on  the  young  maid  of  honour.  Catherine  was 
more  than  forty  years'  old,  and  it  was  hardly  to  be  expected 
that  so  susceptible  a  man  as  Henry  would  have  made,  ns 
Job  says,  a  covenant  with  his  eyes  not  to  think  upon  a  maid. 
Desirous  of  showing  his  admiration,  he  presented  Anne,  ac- 
cording to  usage,  with  a  costly  jewel;  she  accepted  and 
wore  it,  and  continued  to  dance,  laugh,  and  chatter  as  be- 
fore, without  attaching  particular  importance  to  the  royal 
present.  Henry's  attentions  became  more  continuous ;  and 
he  took  advantage  of  a  moment  when  he  found  Anne  alone 
to  declare  his  sentiments.  With  mingled  emotion  and  alarm, 
the  young  lady  fell  trembling  at  the  king's  feet,  and  ex- 
claimed, bursting  into  tears  :  "  I  think,  most  noble  and  wor- 
thy king,  your  majesty  speaks  these  words  in  mirth  to  prove 

me I  will  rather  lose  my  life  than  my  virtue."  J    Henry 

gracefully  replied,  that  he  should  at  least  continue  to  hope. 
But  Anne,  rising  up,  proudly  made  answer :  "  I  understand 
not,  most  mighty  king,  how  you  should  retain  any  such 

*  Ad  illius  imitationem  reliqure  regiaa  ancillrc  colli  ct  pcctoris  supe- 
riora,  quse  antea  nuda  gestabant,  operire  coeperunt.  Sanders,  p.  16. 

t  See  Sanders,  ibid.  It  is  useless  to  refute  Sanders'  stories.  We  re- 
fer our  readers  to  Burnet's  Hist,  of  the  Reformation,  to  Lord  Herbert's 
Life  of  Henry  VIII.,  to  Wyatt,  and  others.  We  need  only  read  Sanders 
to  estimate  at  their  true  value  the  foul  calumnies,  as  these  writers  term 
them,  of  the  man  whom  they  style  the  Roman  legendary. 

J  Sloane  MSS.  No.  2495;  Turner's  Hist.  En*,  ii,  p.  1.9fi. 

H*  o 


314  ANNE  QUITS  THE  COURT. 

hope ;  your  wife  I  cannot  be,  both  in  respect  of  mine  own 
unworthiness,  and  also  because  you  have  a  queen  already. 
Your  mistress  I  will  not  be."  Anne  kept  her  word.  She 
continued  to  show  the  king,  even  after  this  interview,  all 
the  respect  that  was  due  to  him ;  but  on  several  occasions 
she  proudly,  violently  even,  repelled  his  advances.*  In  this 
age  of  gallantry,  we  find  her  resisting  for  nearly  six  years  all 
the  seductions  Henry  scattered  round  her.  Such  an  exam- 
ple is  not  often  met  with  in  the  history  of  courts.  The  books 
she  had  read  in  Margaret's' palace  gave  her  a  secret  strength. 
All  looked  upon  her  with  respect ;  and  even  the  queen  treated 
her  with-  politeness.  Catherine  showed,  however,  that  she 
had  remarked  the  king's  preference.  One  day,  as  she  was 
playing  at  cards  with  her  maid  of  honour,  while  Henry  was 
in  the  room,  Anne  frequently  holding  the  king,  she  said: 
"  My  Lady  Anne,  you  have  good  hap  to  stop  ever  at  a 
king  ;  but  you  are  not  like  others,  you  will  have  all  or  none." 
Anne  blushed :  from  that  moment  Henry's  attentions  ac- 
quired more  importance ;  she  resolved  to  withdraw  from 
them,  and  quitted  the  court  with  Lady  Rochford. 

The  king,  who  was  not  accustomed  to  resistance,  was  ex- 
tremely grieved;  and  having  learnt  that  Anne  would  not 
return  to  the  court  either  with  or  without  her  mother,  sent  a 
courier  to  Hever  with  a  message  and  a  letter  for  her.  If  we 
recollect  the  manners  of  the  age  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  how 
far  the  men,  in  their  relations  with  the  gentler  sex,  were 
strangers  to  that  reserve  which  society  now  imposes  upon 
them,  we  cannot  but  be  struck  by  the  king's  respectful  tone. 
He  writes  thus  in  French : — 

"  As  the  time  seems  to  me  very  long  since  I  heard  from 
you  or  concerning  your  health,  the  great  love  I  have  for  you 
has  constrained  me  to  send  this  bearer  to  be  better  informed 
both  of  your  health  and  pleasure ;  particularly,  because 
since  my  last  parting  with  you,  I  have  been  told  that  you 
have  entirely  changed  the  mind  in  which  I  left  you,  and 
that  you  neither  mean  to  come  to  court  with  your  mother 
nor  any  other  way ;  which  report,  if  true,  I  cannot  enough 
*  Tanto  vehemcntius  preces  regias  ilia  repulit.  Sanders,  p.  17. 


HENRT'3    LETTER   TO    ANNE.  315 

marvel  at,  being  persuaded  in  my  own  mind  that  I  have 
never  committed  any  offence  against  you  ;  arid  it  seems 
hard,  in  return  for  the  great  love  I  bear  you,  to  be  kept  at  a 
distance  from  the  person  and  presence  of  the  woman  in  the 
world  that  I  value  the  most.  And  if  you  love  me  with  as 
much  affection  as  I  hope  you  do,  I  am  sure  the  distance  of 
our  two  persons  would  be  equally  irksome  to  you,  though 
this  does  not  belong  so  much  to  the  mistress  as  to  the  ser- 
vant. 

"  Consider  well,  my  mistress,  how  greatly  your  absence 
afflicts  me.  I  hope  it  is  not  your  will  that  it  should  be  so  ; 
but  if  I  heard  for  certain  that  you  yourself  desired  it,  I 
could  but  mourn  my  ill-fortune,  and  strive  by  degrees  to 
abate  of  my  great  folly. 

"  And  so  for  lack  of  time  I  make  an  end  of  this  rude  let- 
ter, beseeching  you  to  give  the  bearer  credence  in  all  he  will 
tell  you  from  me.  Written  by  the  hand  of  your  entire  ser 
vant,  "  H.  R.."* 

X 

The  word  servant  (serviteur)  employed  in  this  letter  ex- 
plains the  sense  in  which  Henry  used  the  word  mistress.  In 
the  language  of  chivalry,  the  latter  term  expressed  a  person 
to  whom  the  lover  had  surrendered  his  heart. 

It  would  seem  that  Anne's  reply  to  this  letter  was  the 
same  she  had  made  to  the  king  from  the  very  first;  and 
Cardinal  Pole  mentions  more  than  once  her  obstinate  re- 
fusal of  an  adulterous  love.f  At  last  Henry  understood 
Anne's  virtue;  but  he  was  far  from  abating  of  his  great 
folly,  as  he  had  promised.  That  tyrannical  selfishness,  which 
the  prince  often  displayed  in  his  life,  was  shown  particularly 

*  Pamphleteer,  No.  42,  p.  347.  It  is  difficult  to  fix  the  order  and 
chronology  of  Henry's  letters  to  Anne  Boleyn.  This  is  the  second  in  the 
Vatican  Collection,  but  it  appears  to  us  to  be  of  older  date.  It  is  con- 
sidered as  written  in  May  1528 ;  we  are  inclined  to  place  it  in  the  au- 
tumn of  1527.  The  originals  of  these  letters,  chiefly  in  old  French,  are 
still  preserved  in  the  Vatican,  having  been  stolen  from  the  royal  cabinet 
and  conveyed  thither. 

°f  Concubina  enim  tna  fieri  pudica  mulier  nolebat,  uxor  volebat.  Ilia 
cujus  amore  rex  deperibat,  pertinacissime  negabat  sui  corporis  potcsta- 
tem.  Polus  ad  Regem,  p.  176.  Cardinal  PC  e  is  a  far  more  trustworthy 
authority  than  Sanders. 


816  HENRY  PROPOSES  MARRIAGE. 

in  his  amours.  Seeing  that  he  could  not  attain  his  end  by 
illegitimate  means,  he  determined  to  break,  as  quickly  as 
possible,  the  bonds  which  united  him  to  the  queen.  Anne's 
virtue  was  the  third  cause  of  Henry's  divorce. 

His  resolution  being  once  taken,  it  must  needs  be  carried 
out.  Henry  having  succeeded  in  bringing  Anne  back  to 
court,  procured  a  private  interview  with  her,  offered  her  his 
crown,  and  seizing  her  hand,  took  off  one  of  her  rings.  But 
Anne,  who  would  not  be  the  king's  mistress,  refused  also  to 
be  his  wife.  The  glory  of  a  crown  could  not  dazzle  her,  said 
Wyatt,  and  two  motives  in  particular  counterbalanced  all  the 
prospects  of  greatness  which  were  set  before  her  eyes.  The 
first  was  her  respect  for  the  queen :  "  How  could  I  injure  a 
princess  of  such  great  virtue  ?"  she  exclaimed.*  The  second 
was  the  fear  that  a  union  with  "  one  that  was  her  lord  and 
her  king,"  would  not  give  her  that  freedom  of  heart  and  that 
liberty  which  she  would  enjoy  by  marrying  a  man  of  the 
same  rank  with  herself,  f 

Yet  the  noblemen  and  ladies  of  Henry's  court  whispered 
to  one  another  that  Anne  would  certainly  become  queen  of 
England.  Some  were  tormented  by  jealousy;  others,  her 
friends,  were  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  a  rapid  advance- 
ment. Wolsey's  enemies  in  particular  were  charmed  at  the 
thought  of  ruining  the  favourite.  It  was  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  all  these  emotions  were  so  variously  agitating 
the  court  that  the  cardinal,  returning  from  his  embassy  to 
Francis,  re-appeared  in  London,  where  an  unexpected  blow 
struck  him. 

Wolsey  was  expressing  his  grief  to  Henry  at  having  failed 
in  obtaining  either  Margaret  or  Eenee  for  him,  when  the 
king  interrupted  him :  "  Console  yourself,  I  shall  marry 
Anne  Boleyn."  The  cardinal  remained  speechless  for  a 
moment.  What  would  become  of  him,  if  the  king  placed 
the  crown  of  England  on  the  head  of  the  daughter  and  niece 
of  his  greatest  enemies?  What  would  become  of  the 
church,  if  a  second  Anne  of  Bohemia  should  ascend  the 

*  Tho  love  she  bare  even  to  the  queen  whom  she  served,  that  was  also 
a  personage  of  great  virtue.    Wyatt,  Mem.  of  A.  B.  p.  428. 
f  Ibid. 


WOLSEY  8  OPPOSITION LETTER  TO  THE  POPE.  317 

throne?  Wolsey  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  his  master, 
and  entreated  him  to  renounce  so  fatal  a  project.*  It  was 
then  no  doubt  that  he  remained  (as  he  afterwards  said)  an 
hour  or  two  on  his  knees  before  the  king  in  his  privy  cham- 
ber,-}- but  without  prevailing  on  Henry  to  give  up  his  design. 
Wolsey,  persuaded  that  if  he  continued  openly  to  oppose 
Henry's  will,  he  would  for  ever  lose  his  confidence,  dissem- 
bled his  vexation,  waiting  an  opportunity  to  get  rid  of  this 
unfortunate  rival  by  some  intrigue.  He  began  by  writing  to 
the  pope,  informing  him  that  a  young  lady,  brought  up  by 
the  queen  of  Navarre,  and  consequently  tainted  by  the  Lu- 
theran heresy,  had  captivated  the  king's  heart  ;J  and  from 
that  hour  Anne  Boleyn  became  the  object  of  the  hatred  and 
calumnies  of  Rome.  But  at  the  same  time,  to  conceal  his 
intentions,  Wolsey  received  Henry  at  a  series  of  splendid 
entertainments,  at  which  Anne  outshone  all  the  ladies  of  the 
court. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Bilney's  Preaching — His  Arrest — Arthur's  Preaching  and  Imprisonment 
— Bilney's  Examination — Contest  between  the  Judge  and  the  Prisoner 
— Bilney's  Weakness  and  Fall — His  Terrors — Two  Wants— Arrival  of 
the  Fourth  Edition  of  the  New  Testament— Joy  among  the  Believers. 

WHILE  these  passions  were  agitating  Henry's  palace,  the 
most  moving  scenes,  produced  by  Christian  faith,  were 
stirring  the  nation.  Bilney,  animated  by  that  courage 
which  God  sometimes  gives  to  the  weakest  men,  seemed  to 
have  lost  his  natural  timidity,  and  preached  for  a  time  with 
an  energy  quite  apostolic.  He  taught  that  all  men  should 
first  acknowledge  their  sins  and  condemn  them,  and  then 
hunger  and  thirst  after  that  righteousness  which  Jesus 

"  Whose  persuasion  to  the  contrary,  made  to  the  king  upon  his  knees. 
Cavendish,  p.  204.  t  Ibid.  p.  388. 

t  Metcren,  Hist,  of  tho  Low  Countries,  folio,  20. 


318  BILNEY'S  CHBISTIAN  ACTIVITY. 

Christ  gives.*  To  this  testimony  borne  to  the  truth,  he  added 
his  testimony  against  error.  "  These  five  hundred  years," 
he  added,  "  there  hath  been  no  good  pope ;  and  in  all  the 
times  past  we  can  find  but  fifty :  for  they  have  neither  preached 
nor  lived  well,  nor  conformably  to  their  dignity ;  wherefore, 
unto  this  day,  they  have  borne  the  keys  of  simony."-}- 

As  soon  as  he  descended  from  the  pulpit,  this  pious 
scholar,  with  his  friend  Arthur,  visited  the  neighbouring 
towns  and  villages.  "  The  Jews  and  Saracens  would  long 
ago  have  become  believers,"  he  once  said  at  Wilsdon,  "  had 
it  not  been  for  the  idolatry  of  Christian  men  in  offering  can- 
dles, wax,  and  money  to  stocks  and  stones."  One  day  when 
he  visited  Ipswich,  where  there  was  a  Franciscan  convent, 
he  exclaimed :  "  The  cowl  of  St  Francis  wrapped  round  a 

dead  body  hath  no  power  to  take  away  sins Ecce  agnus 

Dei  qui  tollit  peccata  mundi."  (John  i.  29.)  The  poor 
monks,  who  were  little  versed  in  Scripture  had  recourse  to 
the  Almanac  to  convict  the  Bible  of  error.  "  St  Paul  did 
rightly  affirm,"  said  Friar  John  Brusierd."  that  there  is  but 
one  mediator  of  God  and  man,  because  as  yet  there  was  no 
saint  canonized  or  put  into  the  calendar." — "  Let  us  ask  of 
the  Father  in  the  name  of  the  Son,"  rejoined  Bilney,  "  and 
he  will  give  unto  us." — "  You  are  always  speaking  of  the 
Father  and  never  of  the  saints"  replied  the  friar ;  " you  are 
like  a  man  who  has  been  looking  so  long  upon  the  sun,  that 
he  can  see  nothing  else.":}:  As  he  uttered  these  words  the 
monk  seemed  bursting  with  anger.  "  If  I  did  not  know  that 
the  saints  would  take  everlasting  vengeance  upon  you,  I 
would  surely  with  these  nails  of  mine  be  your  death."  § 
Twice  in  fact  did  two  monks  pull  him  out  of  his  pulpit.  He 
was  arrested  and  taken  to  London. 

Arthur,  instead  of  fleeing,  began  to  visit  the  flocks  which 
his  friend  had  converted.  "  Good  people,"  said  he,  "  if- 1 
should  suffer  persecution  for  the  preaching  of  the  gospel, 
there  are  seven  thousand  more  that  would  preach  it  as  I  do 
now.  Therefore,  good  people!  good  people!"  (and  he  re- 

*  Ut  omnes  priraum  peccata  sua  agnoscant  et  damnent,  deinde  esuriant 
ct  Bitiant  justitiam  illam.     Foxe,  iv.  p.  634. 
+  Ibid.  p.  627.  J  Ibid,  p  629.  §  Ibid.  p.  630. 


BI1JSEY  AND  AKTUUK  BEFORE  THE  BISHOPS.  319 

peated  these  words  several  times  in  a  sorrowful  voice,) 
"  think  not  that  if  these  tyrants  and  persecutors  put  a  man 
to  death,  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  therefore  is  to  be  for- 
saken. Every  Christian  man,  yea  every  layman,  is  a  priest. 
Let  our  adversaries  preach  by  the  authority  of  the  cardinal ; 
others  by  the  authority  of  the  university ;  others  by  the 
pope's  ;  we  will  preach  by  the  authority  of  God.  It  is  not 
the  man  who  brings  the  word  that  saves  the  soul,  but  the 
word  which  the  man  brings.1  Neither  bishops  nor  popes 
have  the  right  to  forbid  any  man  to  preach  the  gospel  ;*  and 
if  they  kill  him  he  is  not  a  heretic  but  a  martyr."-^  The 
priests  were  horrified  at  such  doctrines.  In  their  opinion, 
there  was  no  God  out  of  their  church,  no  salvation  out  of 
their  sacrifices.  Arthur  was  thrown  into  the  same  prison  as 
Bilney. 

On  the  27th  of  November  1527,  the  cardinal  and  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  with  a  great  number  of  bishops, 
divines,  and  lawyers,  met  in  the  chapter-house  of  West- 
minster, when  Bilney  and  Arthur  were  brought  before 
them.  But  the  king's  prime  minister  thought  it  beneath 
his  dignity  to  occupy  his  time  with  miserable  heretics.  Wol- 
sey  had  hardly  commenced  the  examination,  when  he  rose, 
saying :  "  The  affairs  of  the  realm  call  me  away ;  all  such 
as  are  found  guilty  you  will  compel  them  to  abjure,  and 
those  who  rebel  you  will  deliver  over  to  the  secular  power." 
After  a  few  questions  proposed  by  the  bishop  of  London,  the 
two  accused  men  were  led  back  to  prison. 

Abjuration  or  death — that  was  Wolsey's  order.  But  the 
conduct  of  the  trial  was  confided  to  Tonstall;  Bilney  con- 
ceived some  hope.J  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  that  the  bishop  of  London,  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  will 

gratify  the  monks? I  must  tell  him  that  it  was  the 

Greek  Testament  of  his  learned  master  that  led  me  to  the 
faith."  Upon  which  the  humble  evangelist,  having  obtained 
paper  and  ink,  set  about  writing  to  the  bishop  from  his 
gloomy  prison  those  admirable  letters  which  have  been  trans- 
mitted to  posterity.  Tonstall,  who  was  not  a  cruel  man, 

•  Foxe,  iv.  p.  623. 

t  Collyer's  Church  History,  ii.  p.  26. 

*  In  talem  nnnc  mo  judicem  incidissa  gr&tulor.    Foxo,  ST.  p.  68S. 


320  TONSTALL  DESIRES  TO  SAVE  BILNEY. 

was  deeply  moved,  and  then  a  strange  struggle  took  place : 
a  judge  wishing  to  save  the  prisoner,  the  prisoner  desiring 
to  give  up  his  life.  Tonstall,  by  acquitting  Bilney,  had  no 
desire  to  compromise  himself.  "  Submit  to  the  church,"  said 
the  bishop,  "  for  God  speaks  only  through  it."  But  Bilney, 
who  knew  that  God  speaks  in  the  Scriptures,  remained  in- 
flexible. "Very  well,  then,"  said  Tonstall,  taking  up  the 
prisoner's  eloquent  letters,  "  in  discharge  of  my  conscience  I 
shall  lay  these  letters  before1  the  court."  He  hoped,  per- 
haps, that  they  would  touch  his  colleagues,  but  he  was 
deceived.  He  determined,  therefore,  to  make  a  fresh  attempt. 
On  the  4th  of  December,  Bilney  was  brought  again  before 
the  court.  "  Abjure  your  errors,"  said  Tonstall.  Bilney 
refusing  by  a  shake  of  the  head,  the  bishop  continued :  "  Re- 
tire into  the  next  room  and  consider."  Bilney  withdrew, 
and  returning  shortly  after  with  joy  beaming  in  his  eyes, 
Tonstall  thought  he  had  gained  the  victory.  "  You  will 
return  to  the  church,  then?"  said  he The  doctor  an- 
swered calmly:  "  Fiat  judicium  in  nomine  Domini."*  "  Be 
quick,"  continued  the  bishop,  "  this  is  the  last  moment,  and 
you  will  be  condemned."  "  Hcec  est  dies  quam  fecit  Do- 
minus,"  answered  Bilney,  "  exultemus  et  Icetemur  in  ea  I " 
(Ps.  cxviii.  24.)  Upon  this  Tonstall  took  off  his  cap,  and 

said:  "  In  nomine   Patris  et  Filii  et   Spiritus  Sancti 

Exsurgat  Deus  et  dissipentur  inimici  ejus  I "  (Ps.  Ixviii.  1.) 
Then  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  his  forehead  and  on 
his  breast,  he  gave  judgment :  "  Thomas  Bilney,  I  pronounce 
thee  convicted  of  heresy."  He  was  about  to  name  the 

penalty a  last  hope  restrained  him;  he  stopped:  "For 

the  rest  of  the  sentence  we  take  deliberation  until  to-mor- 
row." Thus  was  the  struggle  prolonged  between  two  men, 
one  of  whom  desired  to  walk  to  the  stake,  the  other  to  bar 
the  way  as  it  were  with  his  own  body. 

"Will  you  return  to  the  unity  of  the  church?"  asked 
Tonstall  the  next  day.  "  I  hope  I  was  never  separated  from 
the  church,"  answered  Bilney.  "  Go  and  consult  with  some 
of  your  friends,"  said  the  bishop,  who  was  resolved  to  save 
his  life ;  "  I  will  give  you  till  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon." 
Tn  the  afternoon  Bilney  made  the  same  answer.  "I  will 
*  Let  judgment  be  done  in  the  name.of  tha  Lotfi 


BILNEY'S  STRUGGLE.  321 

give  you  two  nights'  respite  to  deliberate,"  said  the  bishop ; 
"  on  Saturday,  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  the  court  will 
expect  a  plain  definitive  answer."  Tonstall  reckoned  on  the 
night  with  its  dreams,  its  anguish,  and  its  terrors,  to  bring 
about  Bilney's  recantation. 

This  extraordinary  struggle  occupied  many  minds  both  in 
court  and  city.  Anne  Boleyn  and  Henry  VIII.  watched 
with  interest  the  various  phases  of  this  tragic  history.  What 
will  happen  ?  was  the  general  question.  Will  he  give  way  ? 
Shall  we  see  him  live  or  die?  One  day  and  two  nights 
still  remained ;  everything  was  tried  to  shake  the  Cambridge 
doctor.  His  friends  crowded  to  his  prison ;  he  *was  over- 
whelmed with  arguments  and  examples ;  but  an  inward 
struggle,  far  more  terrible  than  those  without,  agitated  the 
pious  Bilney.  "  Whoever  will  save  his  soul  shall  lose  it," 
Christ  had  said.  That  selfish  love  of  his  soul,  which  is 
found  even  in  the  advanced  Christian, — that  self,  which  after 
his  conversion  had  been  not  absorbed,  but  overruled  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  gradually  recovered  strength  in  his  heart,  in 
the  presence  of  disgrace  and  death.  His  friends  who  wished 
to  save  him,  not  understanding  that  the  fallen  Bilney  would 
be  Bilney  no  longer,  conjured  him  with  tears  to  have  pity  on 
himself;  and  by  these  means  his  firmness  was  overcome. 
The  bishop  pressed  him,  and  Bilney  asked  himself:  "  Can  a 
young  soldier  like  me  know  the  rules  of  war  better  than 
an  old  soldier  like  Tonstall?  Or  can  a  poor  silly  sheep 
know  his  way  to  the  fold  better  than  the  chief  pastor 
of  London  ? "  *  His  friends  quitted  him  neither  night 
nor,  day,  and,  entangled  by  their  fatal  affection,  he  be- 
lieved at  last  that  he  had  found  a  compromise  which  would 
set  his  conscience  at  rest.  "I  will  preserve  my  life,"  he 
said,  "  to  dedicate  it  to  the  Lord."  This  delusion  had 
scarcely  laid  hold  of  his  mind  before  his  views  were  con- 
fused, his  faith  was  veiled ;  the  Holy  Ghost  departed  from 
him ;  God  gave  him  over  to  his  carnal  thoughts,  and  under 
the  pretext  of  being  useful  to  Jesus  Christ  for  many  years, 
Bilney  disobeyed  him  at  the  present  moment.  Being  led 
before  the  bishops  on  the  morning  of  Saturday  the  7th  of 
•  Foxe,  iv.  p.  638. 

c2 


322  BILNEY'S  FALL — HIS  SPIRITUAL  TERROHS. 

December,  at  nine  o'clock,  he  fell (Arthur  had  fallen  be- 
fore him),  and  whilst  the  false  friends  who  had  misled  him 
hardly  dared  raise  their  eyes,  the  living  church  of  Christ  in 
England  uttered  a  cry  of  anguish.  "  If  ever  you  come  in 
danger,"  said  Latimer,  "  for  God's  quarrel,  I  would  advise 
you,  above  all  things,  to  abjure  all  your  friendships ;  leave 
not  one  unabjured.  It  is  they  that  shall  undo  you,  and  not 
your  enemies.  It  was  his  very  friends  that  brought  Bilney 
to  it."  * 

On  the  following  day  (Sunday,  8th  December),  Bilney  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  a  procession,  and  the  fallen  disciple, 
bareheaded,  with  a  fagot  on  his  shoulders,  stood  in  front  of 
St  Paul's  cross,  while  a  priest  from  the  pulpit  exhorted  him 
to  repentance ;  after  which  he  was  led  back  to  prison. 

What  a  solitude  for  the  wretched  man !  At  one  time  the 
cold  darkness  of  his  cell  appeared  to  him  as  a  burning  fire ; 
at  another  he  fancied  he  heard  accusing  voices  crying  to 
him  in  the  silence  of  the  night.  Death,  the  very  enemy  he 
had  wished  to  avoid,  fixed  his  icy  glance  upon  him  and  filled 
him  with  fear.  He  strove  to  escape  from  the  horrible 
spectre,  but  in  vain.  Then  the  friends  who  had  dragged  him 
into  this  abyss  crowded  round  and  endeavoured  to  console 
him ;  but  if  they  gave  utterance  to  any  of  Christ's  gentle 
promises,  Bilney  started  back  with  affright  and  shrank  to  the 
farthest  part  of  the  dungeon,  with  a  cry  "  as  though  a  man 
had  run  him  through  the  heart  with  a  sword."  f  Having 
denied  the  word  of  God,  he  could  no  longer  endure  to  hear 
it.  The  curse  of  the  Apocalypse :  Ye  mountains,  hide  me 
from  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb !  was  the  only  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture in  harmony  with  his  soul.  His  mind  wandered,  the 
blood  froze  in  his  veins,  he  sank  under  his  terrors ;  he  lost 
all  sense,  and  almost  his  life,  and  lay  motionless  in  the  arms 
of  his  astonished  friends.  "  God,"  exclaimed  those  unhappy 
individuals  who  had  caused  his  fall,  "  God,  by  a  just  judg- 
ment, delivers  up  to  the  tempests  of  their  conscience  all  who 
deny  his  truth." 

This  was  not  the  only  sorrow  of  the  church.     As  soon  as 
Richard  Bayfield,  the  late  chamberlain  of  Bury,  had  joined 

*  Latimer's  Sermons  (Parker's  Society),  p.  222.  t  Ibid. 


BAYFIELD  ARRESTED.  323 

Tyndale  and  Fryth,  he  said  to  them :  "  I  am  at  your  dis- 
posal ;  you  shall  be  my  head  and  I  will  be  your  hand ;  I 
will  sell  your  books  and  those  of  the  German  reformers  in 
the  Low  Countries,  France,  and  England."  It  was  not  long 
indeed  before  he  returned  to  London.  But  Pierson,  the 
priest  whom  he  had  formerly  met  in  Lombard  Street,  found 
him  again,  and  accused  him  to  the  bishop.  The  unhappy 
man  was  brought  before  Tonstall.  "  You  are  charged,"  said 
the  prelate,  "  with  having  asserted  that  praise  is  due  to  God 
alone,  and  not  to  saints  or  creatures."*  Bayfield  acknowl- 
edged the  charge  to  be  true.  "  You  are  accused  of  main- 
taining that  every  priest  may  preach  the  word  of  God  by 
the  authority  of  the  gospel  without  the  license  of  the  pope 
or  cardinals."  This  also  Bayfield  acknowledged.  A  pen- 
ance was  imposed  on  him ;  and  then  he  was  sent  back  to 
his  monastery  with  orders  to  show  himself  there  on  the  25th 
of  April.  But  he  crossed  the  sea  once  more,  and  hastened 
to  join  Tyndale. 

The  New  Testaments,  however,  sold  by  him  and  others, 
remained  in  England.  At  that  time  the  bishops  subscribed 
to  suppress  the  Scriptures,  as  so  many  persons  have  since 
done  to  circulate  them  ;  and,  accordingly,  a  great  number  of 
the  copies  brought  over  by  Bayfield  and  his  friends  were 
bought  up.-{-  A  scarcity  of  food  was  erelong  added  to  the1 
scarcity  of  the  word  of  God  ;  for  as  the  cardinal  was  endea- 
vouring to  foment  a  war  between  Henry  and  the  emperor, 
the  Flemish  ships  ceased  to  enter  the  English  ports.  It  was 
in  consequence  of  this  that  the  lord  mayor  and  aldermen  of 
London  hastened  to  express  their  apprehensions  to  Wolsey 
almost  before  he  had  recovered  from  the  fatigues  of  his  re- 
turn from  France.  "  Fear  nothing,"  he  told  them ;  "  the 
king  of  France  assured  me,  that  if  he  had  three  bushels  of 
wheat,  England  should  have  two  of  them."  But  none 
arrived,  and  the  people  were  on  the  point  of  breaking  out 
into  violence,  when  a  fleet  of  ships  suddenly  appeared  off  the 
mouth  of  the  Thames.  They  were»German  and  Flemish 
vessels  laden  with  corn,  in  which  the  worthy  people  of  the 

*  That  all  laud  and  praise  should  be  given  to  God  alone.    Foxe,  iv. 
p.  682.  f  Anderson  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  158. 


324  FOURTH  EDITION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 

Low  Countries  had  also  concealed  the  New  Testament.  An 
Antwerp  bookseller,  named  John  Kaimond  or  Ruremond, 
from  his  birthplace,  had  printed  a  fourth  edition  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  previous  ones.  It  was  enriched  with  refer- 
ences and  engravings  on  wood,  and  each  page  bordered  with 
red  lines.  Raimond  himself  had  embarked  on  board  one  of 
the  ships  with  five  hundred  copies  of  his  New  Testament.* 
About  Christmas  1527,  the  book  of  God  was  circulated  in 
England  along  with  the  bread  that  nourishes  the  body.  But 
certain  priests  and  monks  having  discovered  the  Scriptures 
among  the  sacks  of  corn,  they  carried  several  copies  to  the 
bishop  of  London,  who  threw  Raimond  into  prison.  The 
greater  part,  however,  of  the  new  edition  escaped  him.  The 
New  Testament  was  read  everywhere,  and  even  the  court 
did  not  escape  the  contagion.  Anne  Boleyn,  notwithstanding 
her  smiling  face,  often  withdrew  to  her  closet  at  Greenwich 
or  at  Hampton  Court,  to  study  the  gospel.  Frank,  coura- 
geous, and  proud,  she  did  not  conceal  the  pleasure  she  found 
in  such  reading;  her  boldness  astonished  the  courtiers,  and 
exasperated  the  clergy.  In  the  city  things  went  still  farther : 
the  New  Testament  was  explained  in  frequent  conventicles, 
particularly  in  the  house  of  one  Russell,  and  great  was  the 
joy  among  the  faithful.  "  It  is  sufficient  only  to  enter 
•London,"  said  the  priests,  "  to  become  a  heretic !"  The  Re- 
formation was  taking  root  among  the  people  before  it  arrived 
at  the  upper  classes. 

*  Foxe,  v.  p.  27. 


POPERY  INTERCUTS  THE  GOSPEL.  8ti5 

* 

• 

CHAPTER  VIII. 


Che  Papacy  intercepts  the  Gospel — The  King  consults  Sir  Thomas  More 
— Ecclesiastical  Conferences  about  the  Divorce— The  Universities — 
Clarke— The  Nun  of  Kent— Wolsey  decides  to  do  the  King's  Will— Mis- 
sion to  the  Pope — Four  Documents — Embarrassment  of  Charles  V. — 
Francis  Philip  at  Madrid— Distress  and  Resolution  of  Charles — He 
turns  away  from  the  Reformation— Conference  at  the  Castle  of  St 
Angelo — Knight  arrives  in  Italy — His  Flight — Treaty  between  the 
Pope  and  the  Emperor — Escape  of  the  Pope — Confusion  of  Henry 
VIII. — Wolsey's  Orders— His  Entreaties. 


THE  sun  of  the  word  of  God,  which  daily  grew  brighter  in 
the  sky  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was  sufficient  to  scatter  all 
the  darkness  in  England ;  but  popery,  like  an  immense  wall, 
intercepted  its  rays.  Britain  had  hardly  received  the  Scrip- 
tures in  Greek  and  Latin,  and  then  in  English,  before  the 
priests  began  to  make  war  upon  them  with  indefatigable 
zeal.  It  was  necessary  that  the  wall  should  be  thrown 
down  in  order  that  the  sun  might  penetrate  freely  among 
the  Anglo-Saxon  people.  And  now  events  were  ripening  in 
England,  destined  to  make  a  great  breach  in  popery.  The 
negotiations  of  Henry  VIII.  with  Clement  VII.  play  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  Reformation.  By  showing  up  the  Court 
of  Rome,  they  destroyed  the  respect  which  the  people  felt 
for  it ;  they  took  away  that  power  and  strength,  as  Scripture 
says,  which  the  monarchy  had  given  it ;  and  the  throne  ot 
the  pope  once  fallen  in  England,  Jesus  Christ  uplifted  and 
strengthened  his  own. 

Henry,  ardently  desiring  an  heir,  and  thinking  that  he  had 
found  the  woman  that  would  ensure  his  own  and  England's 
happiness,  conceived  the  design  of  severing  the  ties  that 
united  him  to  the  queen,  and  with  this  view  he  consulted  his 
most  favourite  councillors  about  the  divorce.  There  was 
one  in  particular  whose  approval  he  coveted :  this  was  Sir 
Thomas  More.  One  day  as  Erasmus's  friend  was  walking 


326  CONFERENCES  ABOUT  THE  DIVORCE. 

with  his  master  in  th^e  beautiful  gallery  at  Hampton  Court, 
giving  him  an  account  (jf  a  mission  he  had  just  executed  on 
the  continent,  the  king  suddenly  interrupted  him :  "  My 
marriage  with  the  queen,"  he  said,  "  is  contrary  to  the  laws 
of  God,  of  the  church,  and  of  nature."  He  then  took  up  the 
Bible,  and  pointed  out  the  passages  in  his  favour.*  "  I  am 
not  a  theologian,"  said  More,  somewhat  embarrassed  "  your 
majesty  should  consult  a  council  of  doctors." 

Accordingly,  by  Henry's  order,  Warham  assembled  the 
most  learned  canonists  at  Hampton  Court ;  but  weeks  passed 
away  before  they  could  agree.-]-  Most  of  them  quoted  in  the 
king's  favour  those  passages  in  Leviticus  (xviii.  16 ;  xx.  21,) 
which  forbid  a  man  to  take  his  brother's  wife.\  But  Fisher, 
bishop  of  Rochester,  and  the  other  opponents  of  the  divorce, 
replied  that,  according  to  Deuteronomy  (xxv.  5,)  when  a 
woman  is  left  a  widow  without  children,  her  brother-in-law 
ought  to  take  her  to  wife,  to  perpetuate  his  brother's  name 
in  Israel.  "  This  law  concerned  the  Jews  only,"  replied  the 
partisans  of  the  divorce ;  they  added  that  its  object  was  "  to 
maintain  the  inheritances  distinct,  and  the  genealogies  in- 
tact, until  the  coming  of  Christ.  The  Judaical  dispensation 
has  passed  away ;  but  the  law  of  Leviticus,  which  is  a  moral 
law,  is  binding  upon  all  men  in  all  ages." 

To  free  themselves  from  their  embarrassment,  the  bishops 
demanded  that  the  most  eminent  universities  should  be  con- 
sulted; and  commissioners  were  forthwith  despatched  to 
Oxford,  Cambridge,  Paris,  Orleans,  Toulouse,  Louvain,  Padua, 
and  Bologna,  furnished  with  money  to  reward  the  foreign 
doctors  for  the  time  and  trouble  this  question  would  cost 
them.  This  caused  some  little  delay,  and  every  means  was 
now  to  be  tried  to  divert  the  king  from  his  purpose. 

Wolsey,  who  was  the  first  to  suggest  the  idea  of  a  divorce, 
was  now  thoroughly  alarmed.  It  appeared  to  him  that  a 
nod  from  the  daughter  of  the  Boleyns  would  hurl  him  from 

*  Laid  the  Bible  open  before  me,  and  showed  me  the  words.  More  to 
Cromwell,  Strype,  i.  2d  part,  p.  97. 

f  Consulting  from  day  to  day,  and  time  to  time.    Cavendish,  p.  209. 

Ex  his  doctoribus  asseritur  quod  Papa  non  potest  dispensare  in  prime 
gradu  affinitatis.    Barnet's  Reform,  ii.  Records,*p.  8  (Lond.  1841). 


CLARKE'S  OBJECTION.  327 

the  post  he  had  so  laboriously  won,  ar\d  this  made  him  vent 
his  ill-humour  on  all  about  him,  at  one  time  threatening 
Warham,  and  at  another  persecuting  Pace.  But  fearing  to 
oppose  Henry  openly,  he  summoned  from  Paris,  Clarke, 
bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  at  that  time  ambassador  to  the 
French  court.  The  latter  entered  into  his  views,  and  after 
cautiously  preparing  the  way,  he  ventured  to  say  to  the  king : 
"  The  progress  of  the  inquiry  will  be  so  slow,  your  majesty, 
that  it  will  take  more  than  seven  years  to  bring  it  to  an  end !" 
— "  Since  my  patience  has  already  held  out  for  eighteen  years," 
the  king  replied  coldly;  "  I  am  willing  to  wait  four  or  five 
more."* 

As  the  political  party  had  failed,  the  clerical  party  set  in 
motion  a  scheme  of  another  kind.  A  young  woman,  Eliza- 
beth Barton,  known  as  the  holy  maid  of  Kent,  had  been  sub- 
ject from  childhood  to  epileptic  fits.  The  priest  of  her  parish, 
named  Masters,  had  persuaded  her  that  she  was  inspired  of 
God,  and  confederating  with  one  Bocking,  a  monk  of  Canter- 
bury, he  turned  the  weakness  of  the  prophetess  to  account. 
Elizabeth  wandered  over  the  country,  passing  from  house  to 
house,  and  from  convent  to  convent ;  on  a  sudden  her  limbs 
would  become  rigid,  her  features  distorted ;  violent  convul- 
sions shook  her  body,  and  strange  unintelligible  sounds  fell 
from  her  lips,  which  the  amazed  bystanders  received  as  re- 
velations from  the  Virgin  and  the  saints.  Fisher,  bishop  of 
Rochester,  Abel,  the  queen's  ecclesiastical  agent,  and  even 
Sir  Thomas  More,  were  among  the  number  of  Elizabeth's 
partisans.  Rumours  of  the  divorce  having  reached  the  saint's 
ears,  an  angel  commanded  her  to  appear  before  the  cardinal. 
As  soon  as  she  stood  in  his  presence,  the  colour  fled  from 
her  cheeks,  her  limbs  trembled,  and  falling  into  an  ecstasy, 
she  exclaimed :  "  Cardinal  of  York,  God  has  placed  three 
swords  in  your  hand :  the  spiritual  sword,  to  range  the  church 
under  the  authority  of  the  pope ;  the  civil  sword,  to  govern 
the  realm ;  and  the  sword  of  justice,  to  prevent  the  divorce 
of  the  king If  you  do  not  wield  these  three  swords  faith- 

*  Since  his  patieneo  had  already  held  out  for  eighteen  years.    CoUyer, 
ii.  p.  24. 


328  FOUK  DOCUMENTS  REQUIRED  OP  THE  1'OPE. 

fully,  God  will  lay  it  sore  to  your  charge."*  After  these 
words  the  prophetess  withdrew. 

But  other  influences  were  then  dividjng  Wolsey's  breast: 
hatred,  which  induced  him  to  oppose  the  divorce ;  and  am- 
bition, which  forboded  his  ruin  in  this  opposition.  At  last 
ambition  prevailed,  and  he  resolved  to  make  his  objections 
forgotten  by  the  energy  of  his  zeal. 

Henry  hastened  to  profit  by  this  change.  "  Declare  the 
divorce  yourself,"  said  he  to  Wolsey ;  "  has  not  the  pope 
named  you  his  vicar-general ?"-J-  The  cardinal  was  not 
anxious  to  raise  himself  so  high.  "  If  I  were  to  decide  the 
affair,"  said  he,  "  the  queen  would  appeal  to  the  pope, 
we  must  therefore  either  apply  to  the  holy  father  for  special 
powers,  or  persuade  the  queen  to  retire  to  a  nunnery.  And 
if  we  fail  in  either  of  these  expedients,  we  will  obey  the 
voice  of  conscience,  even  in  despite  of  the  pope.":}:  It  was 
arranged  to  begin  with  the  more  regular  attempt,  and  Gre- 
gory Da  Casale,  secretary  Knight,  and  the  prothonotary 
Gambara,  were  appointed  to  an  extraordinary  mission  at  the 
pontifical  court.  Casale  was  Wolsey's  man,  and  Knight  was 
Henry's.  Wolsey  told  the  envoys :  "  You  will  demand  of 
the  pope,  Istly,  a  commission  authorizing  me  to  inquire  into 
this  matter ;  2dly:  his  promise  to  pronounce  the  nullity  of 
Catherine's  marriage  with  Henry,  if  we  should  find  that  her 
marriage  with  Arthur  was  consummated ;  and  3dly,  a  dis- 
pensation permitting  the  king  to  marry  again."  In  this 
manner  Wolsey  hoped  to  make  sure  of  the  divorce  without 
damaging  the  papal  authority.  It  was  insinuated  that  false 
representations,  with  regard  to  the  consummation  of  the  first 
marriage,  had  been  sent  from  England  to  Julius  II.,  which 
had  induced  the  pontiff  to  permit  the  second.  The  pope  be- 
ing deceived  as  to  the  fact,  his  infallibility  was  untouched, 
Wolsey  desired  something  more ;  knowing  that  no  confidence 

*  Strype,  vol.  i.  part  i.  p.  279. 

•f-  When  Napoleon,  from  similar  motives,  desired  to  separate  from 
Josephine,  fearing  the  unwillingness  of  the  pope  (as  Henry  did),  he  en- 
tertained, like  him,  the  design  of  doing  without  the  pontiff,  and  of  getting 
his  marriage  annulled  by  the  French  bishops.  As  he  was  more  powerful, 
he  succeeded. 

J  Quid  possit  clam  fieri  quoad  forum  conscientise.    Collyer,  ii.  p.  24. 


THE  POPE  CANNO1  ERR.  329 

could  be  put  in  the  good  faitli  of  the  pontiff,  lie  demanded  a 
fourth  instrument,  by  which  the  pope  should  bind  himself 
never  to  recall  the  other  three  ;  he  only  forgot  to  take  pre- 
cautions in  case  Clement  should  withdraw  the  fourth.  "  With 
these  four  snares,  skilfully  combined,"  said  the  cardinal,  "  I 
shall  catch  the  hare;  if  he  escapes  from  one,  he  will  fall  into 
the  other."  The  courtiers  anticipated  a  speedy  termination 
of  the  affair.  Was  not  the  emperor  the  declared  enemy  ot 
the  pontiff?  Had  not  Henry,  on  the  contrary,  made -himself 
protector  of  the  Clementine  league  ?  Could  Clement  hesitate, 
when  called  upon,  to  choose  between  his  jailer  and  his 
benefactor  ? 

Indeed,  Charles  V.,  at  this  moment,  was  in  a  very  em- 
barrassing position.  It  is  true,  his  guards  were  posted  at 
the  gates  of  the  castle  of  St  Angelo,  where  Clement  was  a 
prisoner,  and  people  in  Rome  said  to  one  another  with  a 
smile:  "  Now  indeed  it  is  true,  Papa  non  potest  errare.n* 
But  it  was  not  possible  to  keep  the  pope  a  prisoner  in  Rome ; 
and  then  what  was  to  be  done  with  him  ?  The  viceroy  of 
Naples  proposed  to  Alercon,  the  governor  of  St  Angelo,  to 
remove  Clement  to  Gaeta;  but  the  affrighted  colonel  ex- 
claimed :  "  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  drag  after  me  the 
very  body  of  God !"  Charles  thought  one  time  of  transport- 
ing the  pontiff  to  Spain ;  but  might  not  an  enemy's  fleet 
carry  him  off  on  the  road  ?  The  pope  in  prison  was  far  more 
embarrassing  to  Charles  than  the  pop*e  at  liberty. 

It  was  at  this  critical  time  that  Francis  Philip,  Queen 
Catherine's  servant,  having  escaped  the  snares  laid  by  Henry 
VIII.  and  Wolsey,  arrived  at  Madrid,  where  he  passed  a 
whole  day  in  conference  with  Charles  V.  This  prince  was 
at  first  astonished,  shocked  even,  by  the  designs  of  the  king 
of  England.  The  curse  of  God  seemed  to  hang  over  his 
house.  His  mother  was  a  lunatic ;  his  sister  of  Denmark 
expelled  from  her  dominions ;  his  sister  of  Hungary  made  a 
widow  by  the  battle  of  Mohacz;  the  Turks  were  encroaching 
upon  his  territories;  Lautrec  was  victorious  in  Italy,  and 

*  The  pope  cannot  err,— a  play  upon  the  double  meaning  of  the  word 
errare. 

VOL.  Y.  15 


330         CHARLES  TURNS  TOWARDS  CLEMENT. 

the  catholics,  irritated  by  the  pope's  captivity,  detested  his 
ambition.  This  was  not  enough.  Henry  VIII.  was  striving 
to  divorce  his  aunt,  and  the  pope  would  naturally  give  his 
aid  to  this  criminal  design.  Charles  must  choose  between 
the  pontiff  and  the  king.  The  friendship  of  the  king  of 
England  might  aid  him  in  breaking  the  league  formed  to 
expel  him  from  Italy,  and  by  sacrificing  Catherine  he  would 
be  sure  to  obtain  his  support ;  but  placed  between  reasons 
of  state  and  his  aunt's  honour,  the  emperor  did  not  hesitate; 
he  even  renounced  certain  projects  of  reform  that  he  had  at 
heart.  He  suddenly  decided  for  the  pope,  and  from  that 
very  hour  followed  a  new  course. 

Charles,  who  possessed  great  discernment,  had  understood 
his  age ;  he  had  seen  that  concessions  were  called  for  by  the 
movement  of  the  human  mind,  and  would  have  desired  to 
carry  out  the  change  from  the  middle  ages  to  modern  times 
by  a  carefully  managed  transition.  He  had  consequently 
demanded  a  council  to  reform  the  church  and  weaken  the 
Romish  dominion  in  Europe.  But  very  different  was  the 
result.  If  Charles  turned  away  from  Henry,  he  was  obliged 
to  turn  towards  Clement;  and  after  having  compelled  the 
head  of  the  church  to  enter  a  prison,  it  was  necessary  to 
place  him  once  more  upon  the  throne.  Charles  V.  sacrificed 
the  interests  of  Christian  society  to  the  interests  of  his  own 
family.  This  divorce,  which  in  England  has  been  looked 
upon  as  the  ruin  of  the»popedom,  was  what  saved  it  in  con- 
tinental Europe. 

But  how  could  the  emperor  win  the  heart  of  the  pontiff, 
filled  as  it  was  with  bitterness  and  anger  ?  He  selected  for 
this  difficult  mission  a  friar  of  great  ability,  De  Angelis, 
general  of  the  Spanish  Observance,  and  ordered  him  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  castle  of  St  Angelo  under  the  pretext  of  nego- 
tiating the  liberation  of  the  holy  father.  The  cordelier  was 
conducted  to  the  strongest  part  of  the  fortress,  called  the 
Rock,  where  Clement  was  lodged;  and  the  two  priests 
brought  all  their  craft  to  bear  on  each  other.  The  monk, 
assisted  by  the  artful  Moncade,  adroitly  mingled  together 
the  pope's  deliverance  and  Catherine's  marriage.  He  af- 


A  CONFERENCE  AT  ST  ANGELO.  331 

firmed  that  the  emperor  wished  to  open  the  gates  of  the 
pontiffs  prison,  and  had  already  given  the  order;*  and  then 
he  added  immediately :  "  The  emperor  is  determined  to  main- 
tain the  rights  of  his  aunt,  and  will  never  consent  to  the 
divorce."-}- — "  If  you  are  a  -700^  shepherd  to  me,"  wrote 
Charles  to  the  pope  with  his  own  hand  on  the  22d  of  No- 
vember, "  I  will  be  a  good  sheep  to  you."  Clement  smiled 
as  he  read  these  words ;  he  understood  his  position ;  the 
emperor  had  need  of  the.  priest,  Charles  was  at  his  captive's 
feet;  Clement  was  saved!  The  divorce  was  a  rope  fallen 
from  the  skies  which  could  not  fail  to  drag  him  out  of  the 
pit ;  he  had  only  to  cling  to  it  quietly  in  order  to  reascend 
his  throne.  Accordingly  from  that  hour  Clement  appeared 
less  eager  to  quit  the  castle  than  Charles  to  liberate  him. 
"  So  long  as  the  divorce  is  in  suspense,"  thought  the  crafty 
De'  Medici,  "  I  have  two  great  friends ;  but  as  soon  as  I 
declare  for  one,  I  shall  have  a  mortal  enemy  in  the  other." 
He  promised  the  monk  to  come  to  no  decision  in  the  matter 
without  informing  the  emperor. 

Meantime  Knight,  the  envoy  of  the  impatient  monarch, 
having  heard,  as  he  crossed  the  Alps,  that  the  pope  was  at 
liberty,  hastened  on  to  Parma,  where  he  met  Gambara : 
"  He  is  not  free  yet,"  replied  the  prothonotary ;  "  but  the 
general  of  the  Franciscans  hopes  to  terminate  his  captivity 
in  a  few  days.}:  Continue  your  journey,"  he  added.  Knight 
could  not  do  so  without  great  danger.  He  was  told  at 
Foligno,  sixty  miles  from  the  metropolis,  that  if  he  had  not 
a  safe-conduct  he  could  not  reach  Rome  without  exposing 
his  life ;  Knight  halted.  Just  then  a  messenger  from  Henry 
brought  him  despatches  more  pressing  than  ever;  Knight 
started  again  with  one  servant  and  a  guide.  At  Monte 
Rotondo  he  was  nearly  murdered  by  the  inhabitants;  but 
on  the  next  day  (25th  November),  protected  by  a  violent 

*  La  Ca'sarea  Majesta  si  come  grandamente  desidera  la  liberatione  de 
nostro  signer,  cosi  cfficacementc  la  manda.  Capituli,  etc.  Le  Grand, 
iii.  p.  48. 

f  That  in  anywise  he  should  not  consent  to  the  same.  State  Papers, 
vii.  p.  29. 

£  Quod  sperabat  intra  paucos  dies  auferre  sun?  Sanctitati  squalorem  et 
tenebras.  Stat«  Papers,  vii.  p.  13. 


it32  KNIGHT  ARRIVES  IN  ITALY. 

storm  of  wind  and  rain,*  Henry's  envoy  entered  Rome  at  ten 
o'clock  without  being  observed,  and  kept  himself  concealed. 

It  was  impossible  to  speak  with  Clement,  for  the  emperor's 
orders  were  positive.  Knight,  therefore,  began  to  practise 
upon  the  cardinals;  he  gained  over  the  cardinal  of  Pisa, 
by  whose  means  his  despatches  were  laid  before  the  pontiff. 
Clement  after  reading  them  laid  them  down  with  a  smile  of 
satisfaction.-}-  "  Good  !"  said  he,  "  here  is  the  other  coining 
to  me  now!"  But  night  had  harcjly  closed  in  before  the 
cardinal  of  Pisa's  secretary  hastened  to  Knight  and  told 
him:."  Don  Alercon  is  informed  of  your  arrival;  and  the 
pope  entreats  you  to  depart  immediately."  This  officer  had 
scarcely  left  him,  when  the  prothonotary  Gambara  arrived  in 
great  agitation :  "  Hjs  holiness  presses  you  to  leave ;  as 
soon  as  he  is  at  liberty,  he  will  attend  to  your  master's  re- 
quest." Two  hours  after  this,  two  hundred  Spanish  soldiers 
arrived,  surrounded  the  house  in  which  Knight  had  concealed 
himself,  and  searched  it  from  top  to  bottom,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose; the  English  agent  had 'escaped.:}: 

Knight's  safety  was  not  the  true  motive  which  induced 
Clement  to  urge  his  departure.  The  very  day  on  which  the 
pope  received  the  message  from  the  king  of  England,  he 
signed  a  treaty  with  Charles  V.,  restoring  him,  under  certain 
conditions,  to  both  his  powers.  At  the  same  time  the  pon- 
tiff, for  greater  security,  pressed  the  French  general  Lautrec 
to  hasten  his  march  to  Rome  in  order  to  save  him  from  the 
hands  of  the  emperor.  Clement,  a  disciple  of  Machiavelli, 
thus  gave  the  right  hand  to  Charles  and  the  left  to  Francis ; 
and  as  he  had  not  another  for  Henry,  he  made  him  the  most 
positive  promises.  Each  of  the  three  princes  could  reckon 
on  the  pope's  friendship,  and  on  the  same  grounds. 

The  10th  of  December  (1527)  was  the  day  on  which  Cle- 
ment's imprisonment  would  terminate ;  but  he  preferred 
owing  his  freedom  to  intrigue  rather  than  to  the  emperor's 

*  Veari  trobelous  with  wynde  and  rayne,  and  therefore  more  mete  for 
our  voyage.  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  16. 

t  Reponed  the  same  saufly,  as  Gambara  showed  unto  me.    Ibid.  p.  17. 

+  I  was  not  passed  out  of  Rome,  by  the  space  of  two  hours,  ere  two 
hundred  Spaniards  invaded  and  searched  the  house.  Burnet,  Recordsf 
it.  p.  12 


THE  KING'S  REMORSE.  333 

generosity.  He  therefore  procured  the  dress  of  a  tradesman 
and,  on  the  evening  before  the  day  fixed  for  his  deliverance, 
his  ward  being  already  much  relaxed,  he  escaped  from  tht 
castle,  and,  accompanied  only  by  Louis  of  Gonzago  in  his 
flight,  he  made  his  way  to  Orvieto. 

While  Clement  was  experiencing  all  the  joy  of  a  man  just 
escaped  from  prison,  Henry  was  a  prey  to  the  most  violent 
agitation.  Having  ceased  to  love  Catherine,  he  persuaded 
himself  that  he  was*the  victim  of  his  father's  ambition,  a 
martyr  to  duty,  and  the  champion  of  conjugal  sanctity.  His 
very  gait  betrayed  his  vexation,  and  even  among  the  gay 
conversation  of  the  court,  deep  sighs  would  escape  from  his 
bosom.  He  had  frequent  interviews  with  Wolsey.  "  I  re- 
gard the  safety  of  my  soul  above  all  things,"*  he  said  ;  "  but 
I  am  concerned  also  for  the  peace  of  my  kingdom.  For  a 
long  while  an  unceasing  remorse  has  been  gnawing  at  my 
conscience,-!-  and  my  thoughts  dwell  upon  my  marriage  with 
unutterable  sorrow.:):  God,  in  his  wrath,  has  taken  away 
my  sons,  and  if  I  persevere  in  this  unlawful  union,  he  will 
visit  me  with  still  more  terrible  chastisements.§  My  only 
hope  is  in  the  holy  father."  Wolsey  replied  with  a  low  bow : 
"  Please  your  majesty,  I  am  occupied  with  this  business,  as 
if  it  were  my  only  means  of  winning  heaven." 

And  indeed  he  redoubled  his  exertions.  He  wrote  to  Sir 
Gregory  Da  Casale  on  the  5th  of  December  (1527):  "  You 
will  procure  an  audience  of  the  pope  at  any  price.  Disguise 
yourself,  appear  before  him  as  the  servant  of  some  nobleman, || 
or  as  a  messenger  from  the  duke  of  Ferrara.  Scatter  money 
plentifully  ;  sacrifice  everything,  provided  you  procure  a  se- 
cret interview  with  his  holiness ;  ten  thousand  ducats  are  at 
your  disposal.  You  will  explain  to  Clement  the  king's 
scruples,  and  the  necessity  of  providing  for  the  continuance 
of  his  house  and  the  peace  of  his  kingdom.  You  will  tell 
him  that  in  order  to  restore  him  to  liberty,  the  king  is  ready 

*  Deumque  primo  et  ante  omnia  ac  aninue  sum  quietem  et  salutcm 
respiciens.    Burnct's  Reformation,  ii.  Records,  p.  vii. 

+  Longo  jam  temporo  intimo  suae  conscientise  remorsu.    Ibid. 

*  Ingenti  cum  molestia  cordisque  perturbatioue.     Ibid. 
§  Graviusque  a  Deo  supplicium  expavcscit.    Ibid.  p.  viii. 
3  Mutato  halitu  et  tanquam  alicujus  minister.    Ibid. 


334  WOLSEY'S  ALTEKNATIVE. 

to  declare  war  against  the  emperor,  and  thus  show  himself 
to  all  the  world  to  be  a  true  son  of  the  church." 

Wolsey  saw  clearly  that  it  was  essential  to  represent  the 
divorce  to  Clement  VII.  as  a  means  likely  to  secure  the  safety 
of  the  popedom.  The  cardinal,  therefore,  wrote  again  to  Da 
Casale  on  the  6th  of  December:  "  Night  and  day,  I  revolve 
in  my  mind  the  actual  condition  of  the  church,*  and  seek  the 
means  best  calculated  to  extricate  the  pope  from  the  gulf  into 
which  he  has  fallen.  While  I  was  turning  these  thoughts 
over  in  my  mind  during  a  sleepless  night one  way  sud- 
denly occurred  to  me.  I  said  to  myself,  the  king  must  be 
prevailed  upon  to  undertake  the  defence  of  the  holy  father. 
This  was  no  easy  matter,  for  his  majesty  is  strongly  attached 
to  the  emperor  ;f  however,  I  set  about  my  task.  I  told  the 
king  that  his  holiness  was  ready  to  satisfy  him ;  I  staked 

my  honour;  I  succeeded To  save  the  pope,  my  master 

will  sacrifice  his  treasures,  subjects,  kingdom,  and  even  his 

lifef I  therefore  conjure  his  holiness  to  entertain  our  just 

demand." 

Never  before  had  such  pressing  entreaties  been  made  to  a 
pope. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  English  Envoys  at  Orvieto — Their  Oration  to  the  Pope — Clement 
gains  Time— The  Envoys  and  Cardinal  Sanctorum  Quatuor — Stratagem 
of  the  Pope— Knight  discovers  it  and  returns — The  Transformations  of 
Antichrist — The  English  obtain  a  new  Document — Fresh  Stratagem — 
Demand  of  a  second  Cardinal-legate — The  Pope's  new  Expedient— End 
of  the  Campaign. 

THE  envoys  of  the  king  of  England  appeared  in  the  character 
of  the  saviours  of  Home.     This  was  doubtless  no  stratagem ; 

*  Diuque  ac  noctu  mente  volvens  quo  facto.    State  Papers,  vii.  p.  18. 
+  Adeo  tenaciter  Csesari  adhserebat.    Ibid. 
$  Usque  ad  mortem.    Ibid.  p.  19. 


ENGLISH  ENVOYS  AND  THE  POPE.          335 

and  Wolsey  probably  regarded  ^at  thought  as  coming  from 
heaven,  which  had  visited  him  during  the  weary  sleepless 
night.  The  zeal  of  his  agents  increased.  The  pope  was 
hardly  set  at  liberty,  before  Knight  and  Da  Casale  appeared 
at  the  foot  of  the  precipitous  rock  on  which  Orvieto  is  built, 
and  demanded  to  be  introduced  to  Clement  VII.  Nothing 
could  be  more  compromising  to  the  pontiff  than  such  a  visit. 
How  could  he  appear  on  good  terms  with  England,  when 
Rome  and  all  his  states  were  still  in  the  hands  of  Catherine's 
nephew?  The  pope's  mind  was  utterly  bewildered  by  the 
demand  of  the  two  envoys.  He  recovered  however •  to  reject 
the  powerful  hand  extended  to  him  by  England  was  not 
without  its  danger ;  and  as  he  knew  well  how  to  bring  a 
difficult  negotiation  to  a  successful  conclusion,  Clement  re- 
gained confidence  in  his  skill,  and  gave  orders  to  introduce 
Henry's  ambassadors. 

Their  discourse  was  not  without  eloquence.  "  Never  was 
the  church  in  a  more  critical  position,"  said  they.  "The 
unmeasured  ambition  of  the  kings  who  claim  to  dispose  of 
spiritual  affairs  at  their  own  pleasure  (this  was  aimed  at 
Charles  V.)  holds  the  apostolical  bark  suspended  over  an 
abyss.  The  only  port  open  to  it  in  the  tempest  is  the  favour 
of  the  august  prince  whom  we  represent,  and  who  has  always 
been  the  shield  of  the  faith.  But,  alas !  this  monarch,  the 
impregnable  bulwark  of  your  holiness,  is  himself  the  prey  of 
tribulations  almost  equal  to  your  own.  His  conscience  torn 
by  remorse,  his  crown  without  an  heir,  his  kingdom  without 
security,  his  people  exposed  once  more  to  perpetual  disorders 

Nay,  the  whole  Christian  world  given  up  to  the  most 

cruel  discord.* Such  are  the  consequences  of  a  fatal  union 

which  God  has  marked  with  his  displeasure There  are 

also,"  they  added  in  a  lower  tone,  "  certain  things  of  which 

his  majesty  cannot  speak  in  his  letter certain  incurable 

disorders  under  which  the  queen  suffers,  which  will  never 
permit  the  king  to  look  upon  her  again  as  his  wife.f  If  your 

*  Discordioe  crudelissimse  per  omnem  christianum  orbem.  State  Pa- 
pers, vii.  p.  19. 

f  Nonnulla  sunt  secreta  S.D.N.  secrete  exponenda  et  non  credend.i 

scriptis ob  morbos  nonnullos  quibus  absque  remedio  regina  laborat. 

Ibid. 


336  CLEMENT'S  EMBARRASSMENT. 

holiness  puts  an  end  to  such  wretchedness  by  annulling  his 
unlawful  marriage,  you  wilfattach  his  majesty  by  an  indis- 
soluble bond.  Assistance,  riches,  armies,  crown,  and  even 
life — the  king  our  master  is  ready  to  employ  all  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Koine.  He  stretches  out  his  hand  to  you,  most  holy 

father stretch  out  yours  to  him ;  by  your  union  the  church 

will  be  saved,  and  Europe  will  be  saved  with  it." 

Clement  was  cruelly  embarrassed.  His  policy  consisted 
in  holding  the  balance  between  the  two  princes,  and  he  was 
now  called  upon  to  decide  in  favour  of  one  of  them.  He 
began  to  regret  that  he  had  ever  received  Henry's  ambassa- 
dors. "  Consider  my  position,"  he  said  to  them,  "  and  en- 
treat the  king  to  wait  until  more  favourable  events  leave  me 
at  liberty  to  act." — "What!"  replied  Knight  proudly,  "has 
not  your  holiness  promised  to  consider  his  majesty's  prayer  ? 
If  you  fail  in  your  promise  now,  how  can  I  persuade  the  king 
that  you  will  keep  it  some  future  day  ?  "  *  Da  Casale  thought 
the  time  had  come  to  strike  a  decisive  blow.  "  What  evils," 
he  exclaimed,  "  what  inevitable  misfortunes  your  refusal 

will  create! The  emperor  thinks  only  of  depriving  the 

church  of  its  power,  and  the  king  of  England  alone  has  sworn 
to  maintain  it."  Then  speaking  lower,  more  slowly,  and 
dwelling  upon  every  word,  he  continued :  "  We  fear  that 

his  majesty,  reduced  to  such  extremities of  the  two 

evils  will  choose  the  leastfi  and  supported  by  the  purity  oi 

his  intentions,  will  do  of  his  own  authority what  he 

now  so  respectfully  demands What  should  we  see  then  ? 

I  shudder  at  the  thought Let  not  your  holiness 

indulge  in  a  false  security  which  will  inevitably  drag  you 

into  the  abyss Read  all remark  all divine  all 

take  note  of  all.J Most  holy  father,  this  is  a  question 

of  life  and  death."  And  Da  Casale's  tone  said  more  than  his 
words. 

Clement  understood  that  a  positive  refusal  would  expose 
him  to  lose  England.  Placed  between  Henry  and  Charles, 
as  between  the  hammer  and  the  forge,  he  resolved  to  gain 

*  Perform  the  promise  once  broken.    Burnet's  Ref.  ii.  Records,  p.  xiii. 
•f"  Ex  duobus  malis  minus  malum  eligat.    State  Papers,  vii.  p.  20. 
J  Ut  non  grayetur,  cuncta  legere,  et  bene  notare.    Ibid.  p.  18, 


PAPAL  DELAYS.  337 

time.  "Well  then,"  he  said  to  Knight  and  Da  Casale,  "I 
will  do  what  you  ask  ;  but  I  am  not  familiar  with  the/orms 

these  dispensations  require I  will  consult  the  Cardinal 

tianctomm  Quatuor  on  the  subject and  then  will  inform 

you." 

Knight  and  Da  Casale,  wishing  to  anticipate  Clement  VIL, 
hastened  to  Lorenzo  Pucci,  cardinal  Sanctorum  Quatuor,  and 
intimated  to  him  that  their  master  would  know  how  to  be 
grateful.  The  cardinal  assured  the  deputies  of  his  affection 
for  Henry  VIII.,  and  they,  in  the  fulness  of  their  gratitude, 
laid  before  him  the  four  documents  which  they  were  anxious 
to  get  executed.  But  the  cardinal  had  hardly  looked  at  the 
first — the  proposal  that  Wolsey  should  decide  the  matter  of 
the  divorce  in  England — wluen  he  exclaimed :  "  Impossible ! 

a  bull  in  such  terms  would  cover  with  eternal  disgrace 

not  only  his  holiness  and  the  king,  but  even  the  cardinal  of 
York  himself."  The  deputies  were  confounded,  for  Wolsey 
had  ordered  them  to  ask  the  pope  for  nothing  but  his  signa- 
ture.* Recovering  themselves,  they  rejoined :  "  All  that  we 
require  is  a  competent  commission."  On  his  part,  the  pope 
wrote  Henry  a  letter,  in  which  he  managed  to  say  nothing.  •{• 

Of  the  four  required  documents  there  were  two  on  whose 
immediate  despatch  Knight  and  Da  Casale  insisted :  these 
were  the  commission  to  pronounce  the  divorce,  and  the  dis- 
pensation to  contract  a  second  marriage.  The  dispensation 
without  the  commission  was  of  no  value  ;  this  the  pope  knew 
well ;  accordingly  he  resolved  to  give  the  dispensation  only. 
•  It  was  as  if  Charles  had  granted  Clement  when  in  prison 
permission  to  visit  his  cardinals,  but  denied  him  liberty  to 
leave  the  castle  of  St  Angelo.  It  is  in  such  a  manner  as  this 
that  a  religious  system  transformed  into  a  political  system 
has  recourse,  when  it  is  without  power,  to  stratagem.  "  The 
commission"  said  the  artful  Medici  to  Knight,  "  must  be  cor- 
rected according  to  the  style  of  our  court ;  but  here  is  the 
dispensation"  Knight  took  the  document ;  it  was  addressed 

*  Alia  nulla  re  esset  opus,  prasterquam  cjus  Sanctitatis  signature. 
State  Papers,  vii.  p.  29. 

t  Charissime  in  Christo  fili,  &c.,  dated  7th  December  1527.    IbkL 
'p.  27. 

15*  P 


338  KNIGHT  DUPED  BY  THE  POPE. 

to  Henry  VIII.  and  ran  thus  :  "  We  accord  to  you,  in  case 
your  marriage  with  Catherine  shall  be  declared  null,*  free 
liberty  to  take  another  wife,  provided  she  have  not  been  the 

wife  of  your  brother "  The  Englishman  was  duped  by 

the  Italian.  "  To  my  poor  judgment,"  he  said,  "  this  docu- 
ment will  be  of  use  to  us."  After  this  Clement  appeared  to 
concern  himself  solely  about  Knight's  health,  and  suddenly 
manifested  the  greatest  interest  for  him.  "  It  is  proper  that 
you  should  hasten  your  departure,"  said  he,  "  for  it  is  neces- 
sary that  you  should  travel  at  your  ease.  Gambara  will 
follow  you  post,  and  bring  the  commission."  Knight  thus 
mystified,  took  leave  of  the  pope,  who  got  rid  of  Da  Casale 
and  Gambara  in  a  similar  manner.  He  then  began  to  breathe 
once  more.  There  was  no  diplomacy  in  Europe  which  Rome, 
even  in  its  greatest  weakness,  could  not  easily  dupe. 

It  had  now  become  necessary  to  elude  the  commission. 
While  the  king's  envoys  were  departing  in  good  spirits, 
reckoning  on  the  document  that  was  to  follow  them,  the 
general  of  the  Spanish  Observance  reiterated  to  the  pontiff 
in  every  tone :  "  Be  careful  to  give  no  document  authorizing 
the  divorce,  and  above  all,  do  not  permit  this  affair  to  be 
judged  in  Henry's  states."  The  cardinals  drew  up  the  do- 
cument under  the  influence  of  De  Angelis,  and  made  it  a 
masterpiece  of  insignificance.  If  good  theology  ennobles  the 
heart,  bad  theology,  so  fertile  in  subtleties,  imparts  to  the 
mind  a  skill  by  no  means  common ;  and  hence  the  most  cele- 
brated diplomatists  have  often  been  churchmen.  The  act 
being  thus  drawn  up,  the  pope  despatched  three  copies,  to 
Knight,  to  Da  Casale,  and  to  Gambara.  Knight  was  near 
Bologna  when  the  courier  overtook  him.  He  was  stupified, 
and  taking  post-horses,  returned  with  all  haste  to  Orvieto.-J- 
Gambara  proceeded  through  France  to  England  with  the 
useless  dispensation  which  the. pope  had  granted. 

Knight  had  thought  to  meet  with  more  good  faith  at  thrc 
court  of  the  pope  than  with  kings,  and  he  had  been  out- 
witted. What  would  Wolsey  and  Henry  say  of  his  folly  ? 

*  Matrimonium  cum  Calharina  nnllum  fuissc  et  esse  declarari.    Her- 
bert's Henry  VIII.  p.  280. 
t  Burnet's  Reformation,  Records,  ii.  p.  xiii. 


TRANSFORMATION  OF  ANTICHRIST.  339 

His  wounded  self-esteem  began  to  make  him  believe  all  that 
Tyndale  and  Luther  said  of  the  popedom.  The  former  had 
just  published  the  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man,  and  the 
Parable  of  the  Wicked  Mammon,  in  which  he  represented 
Rome  as  one  of  the  transformations  of  Antichrist.  "  Anti- 
christ," said  he  in  the  latter  treatise,  "is  not  a  man  that 
should  suddenly  appear  with  wonders ;  he  is  a  spiritual 
thing,  who  was  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  also  in  the  time 
of  Christ  and  the  apostles,  and  is  now,  and  shall  (I  doubt 
not)  endure  till  the  world's  end.  His  nature  is  (when  he  is 
overcome  with  the  word  of  God)  to  go  out  of  the  play  for  a 
season,  and  to  disguise  himself,  and  then  to  come  in  again 
with  a  new  name  and  new  raiment.  The  Scribes  and  Pha- 
risees in  the  gospel  were  very  Antichrists ;  popes,  cardinals, 
and  bishops  have  gotten  their  new  names,  but  the  thing  is 
all  one.  Even  so  now,  when  we  have  uttered  [detected] 
him,  he  will  change  himself  once  more,  and  turn  himself  into 
an  angel  of  light.  Already  the  beast,  seeing  himself  now  to  be 
sought  for,  roareth  and  seeketh  new  holes  to  hide  himself  in, 
and  changeth  himself  into  a  thousand  fashions."*  This  idea, 
paradoxical  at  first,  gradually  made  its  way  into  men's  minds. 
The  Romans,  by  their  practices,  familiarized  the  English  to 
the  somewhat  coarse  descriptions  of  the  reformers.  England 
was  to  have  many  sucn  lessons,  and  thus  by  degrees  learn  to 
set  Rome  aside  for  the  sake  of  her  own  glory  and  prosperity. 
Knight  and  Da  Casale  reached  Orvieto  about  the  same 
time.  Clement  replied  with  sighs  :  "  Alas  1  I  am  the 
emperor's  prisoner.  The  imperialists  are  every  day  pil- 
laging towns  and  castles  in  our  neighbourhood. -j- 

Wretch  that  I  am!  I  have  not  a  friend  except  the  king 
your  master,  and  he  is  far  away If  I  should  do  any- 
thing now  to  displease  Charles,  I  am  a  lost  man To 

sign  the  commission  would  be  to  sign  an  eternal  rupture 
with  him."  But  Knight  and  Da  Casale  pleaded  so  effectu- 
ally with  Cardinal  Sanctorum  Quatuor,  and  so  pressed  Cle- 

*  Tyndale,  Doctr.  Tr.  p.  42, 43. 

+  The  imperialists  do  daily  spoil  castles  and  towns  about  Rome 

they  have  taken  within  three  days  two  castles  lying  within  six  miles  of 
this.  Burnet's  Ref.  vcl.  ii.  Records,  p.  xiii. 


340  NEW  STRATAGEM. 

ment,  that  the  pontiff,  without  the  knowledge  of  tile  Spaniard 
De  Angelis,  gave  them  a  more  satisfactory  document,  but 
not  such  as  Wolsey  required.  -"  In  giving  you  this  com- 
mission," said  the  pope,  "  I  am  giving  away  my  liberty,  and 
perhaps  my  life.  I  listen  not  to  the  voice  of  prudence,  but 
to  that  of  affection  only.  I  confide  in  the  generosity  of  the 
king  of  England,  he  is  the  master  of  my  destiny."  He  then 
began  to  weep,*  and  seemed  ready  to  faint.  Knight,  for- 
getting his  vexation,  promised  Clement  that  the  king  would 
do  everything  to  save  him. — "Ah!  "said  the  pope,  "  there 
is  one  effectual  means." — "What  is  that?"  inquired  Henry's 
agents. — "  M.  Lautrec,  who  says  daily  that  he  will  come,  but 
never  does,"  replied  Clement,  "  has  only  to  bring  the  French 
army  promptly  before  the  gates  of  Orvieto ;  then  I  could 
excuse  myself  by  saying  that  he  constrained  me  to  sign  the 
commission."-}- — "Nothing  is  easier,"  replied  the  envoys,  "we 
will  go  and  hasten  his  arrival." 

Clement  was  not  even  now  at  ease.     The  safety  of  the 

Roman  church  troubled  him  not  less  than  his  own 

Charles  might  discover  the  trick,  and  make  the  popedom 
suffer  for  it.  There  was  danger  on  all  sides.  If  the  Eng- 
lish spoke  of  independence,  did  not  the  emperor  threaten  a 

reform? The  catholic  princes,  said  the  papal  councillors, 

are  capable,  without  perhaps  a  single  exception,  of  support- 
ing the  cause  of  Luther  to  gratify  a  criminal  ambition. J 
The  pope  reflected,  and  withdrawing  his  word,  promised  to 
give  the  commission  when  Lautrec  was  under  the  walls  of 
Orvieto;  but  the  English  agents  insisted  on  having  it  im- 
mediately. To  conciliate  all,  it  was  agreed  that  the  pope 
should  give  the  required  document  at  once,  but  as  soon  as 
the  French  army  arrived,  he  should  send  another  copy  bear- 
ing the  date  of  the  day  on  which  he  saw  Lautrec.  "  Beseech 
the  king  to  keep  secret  the  commission  I  give  you,"§  said 
Clement  VII.  to  Knight ;  "  if  he  begins  the  process  imme- 

*  Cum  suspiriis  et  lacrymis.    Burnet's  Ref.  vol.  ii.  Records,  p.  xii. 

f  And  by  this  colour  he  would  cover  the  matter.    Ibid. 

£  Non  potest  Sua  Sanctitas  sibi  persuadere  ipsos  principes  (ut  forte 
aliqui  jactant)  assumpturos  sectam  Lutheranam  contra  ecclesiam.  State 
Papers,  Tii.  p.  47.  §  Ibid.  p.  36. 


HENRY  DEMANDS  ANOTIIEU  J.EGATE.  341 

diately  he  receives  it,  I  am  undone  for  ever."*  The  pope 
thus  gave  permission  to  act,  on  condition  of  not  acting  at 
all.  Knight  took  leave  on  the  1st  of  January  1528 ;  lie 
promised  all  the  pontiff  desired,  and  then,  as  if  fearing  some 
fresh  difficulty,  he  departed  the  same  day.  Da  Casale,  on 
his  side,  after  having  offered  the  Cardinal  Sanctorum  Qua- 
tuor  a  gift  of  4000  crowns,  which  he  refused,  repaired  to 
Lautrec,  to  heg  him  to  constrain  the  pope  to  sign  a  docu- 
ment which  was  already  on  its  way  to  England. 

But  while  the  business  seemed  to  be  clearing  at  Rome,  it 
was  becoming  more  complicated  in  London.  The  king's 
project  got  wind,  and  Catherine  gave  way  to  the  liveliest 
sorrow.  "I  shall  protest,"  said  she,  "against  the  commis- 
sion given  to  the  cardinal  of  York.  Is  he  not  the  king's 
subject,  the  vile  flatterer  of  his  pleasures?"  Catherine  did 
not  resist  alone ;  the  people,  who  hated  the  cardinal,  could 
not  with  pleasure  see  him  invested  with  such  authority.  To 
obviate  this  inconvenience,  Henry  resolved  to  ask  the  pope 
for  another  cardinal,  who  should  be  empowered  to  terminate 
the  affair  in  London  with  or  without  Wolsey. 

The  latter  agreed  to  the  measure  :  it  is  even  possible  that 
he  was  the  first  to  suggest  it,  for  he  feared  to  bear  alone  the 
responsibility  of  so  hateful  an  inquiry.  Accordingly,  on  the 
27th  of  December,  he  wrote  to  the  king's  agents  at  Rome: 
"  Procure  the  envoy  of  a  legate,  and  particularly  of  an  able, 

.easy,  manageable  legate desirous  of  meriting  the  king's 

favour,-{-  Campeggio  for  instance.  You  will  earnestly  re- 
quest the  cardinal  who  may  be  selected,  to  travel  with  all 
diligence,  and  you  will  assure  him  that  the  king  will  behave 
liberally  towards  him."J 

Knight  reached  Asti  on  the  10th  of  January,  where  he 
found  letters  with  fresh  orders.  This  was  another  check : 
at  one  time  it  is  the  pope  who  compels  him  to  retrograde,  at 
another  it  is  the  king.  Henry's  unlucky  valetudinarian  se- 

*  Is  fully  in  yonr  pnissance  with  publishing  of  the  commission  to  de- 
stroy for  ever.  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  36. 

f  Eruilitus,  indifferens,  tractabilis,  de  regia  majestate  bene  merendi 
cnpidus.  Ibid.  p.  33. 

J  Regia  majestas  sumptus,  labores.  atqne  molestias  liberalissime  com- 
pensct.  •  Ibid.  p.  34. 


342  THE  POPE'S  NEW  EXPEDIENT. 

cretary,  a  man  very  susceptible  of  fatigue,  and  already  wea- 
ried and  exhausted  by  ten  painful  journeys,  was  in  a  very 
bad  humour.  He  determined  to  permit  Gambara  to  cany 
the  two  documents  to  England ;  to  commission  Da  Casale, 
who  had  not  left  the  pope's  neighbourhood,  to  solicit  the 
despatch  of  the  legate ;  and  as  regarded  himself,  to  go  and 
wait  for  further  orders  at  Turin : — "  If  it  be  thought  good 
unto  the  king's  highness  that  I  do  return  unto  Orvieto,  I 
shall  do  as  much  as  my  poor  carcass  may  endure."* 

When  Da  Casale  reached  Bologna,  he  pressed  Lautrec  to 
go  and  constrain  the  pontiff  to  sign  the  act  which  Gambara 
was  already  bearing  to  England.  On  receiving  the  new 
despatches  he  returned  in  ail  haste  to  Orvieto,  and  the  pope 
was  very  much  alarmed  when  he  heard  of  his  arrival.  He 
had  feared  to  grant  a  simple  paper,  destined  to  remain  se- 
cret ;  and  now  he  is  required  to  send  a  prince  of  the  church ! 
Will  Henry  never  be  satisfied  ?  "  The  mission  you  desire 
would  be  full  of  dangers,"  he  replied ;  "  but  we  have  dis- 
covered another  means,  alone  calculated  to  finish  this  busi- 
ness. Mind  you  do  not  say  that  I  pointed  it  out  to  you," 
added  the  pope  in  a  mysterious  tone ;  "  but  that  it  was  sug- 
gested by  Cardinal  Sanctorum  Quatuor  and  Simonetta."  Da 
Casale  was  all  attention.  "  There  is  not  a  doctor  in  the 
world  who  can  better  decide  on  this  matter,  and  on  its  most 
private  circumstances,  than  the  king  himself.-}-  If  therefore 
he  sincerely  believes  that  Catherine  had  really  become  his 
brother's  wife,  let  him  empower  the  cardinal  of  York  to  pro- 
nounce the  divorce,  and  let  him  take  another  wife  without 
any  further  ceremony ;  ^  he  can  then  afterwards  demand  the 
confirmation  of  the  consistory.  The  affair  being  concluded 
in  this  way,  I  will  take  the  rest  upon  myself." — "  But,"  said 
Da  Casale,  somewhat  dissatisfied  with  this  new  intrigue,  "  I 
must  fulfil  my  mission,  and  the  king  demands  a  legate." — 
"  And  whom  shall  I  send  ?"  asked  Clement.  "  Da  Monte? 
he  cannot  move.  De  Csesis?  he  is  at  Naples.  Ara  Cceli? 

*  Burnet's  Ref.  vol.  ii.,  Records,  p.  xiii. 

f  Nullus  doctor  in  mundo  est,  qui  de  bac-  re  melius  deceracre  possit 
tjiiam  ipse  rex.    Ibid.  p.  xiv. 
t  Aliam  uxorcm  ducat.    Ibid.  • 


DISAPPOINTMENT  IN  ENGLAND.  343 

he  has  the  gout.  Piccolomini  ?  he  is  of  the  imperial  party 

Campeggio  would  be  the  best,  but  he  is  at  Rome,  where 

he  supplies  my  place,  and  cannot  leave  without  peril  to  the 

church." And  then  with  some  emotion  he  added,  "I  throw 

myself  into  his  majesty's  arms.  The  emperor  will  never 
forgive  what  I  am  doing.  If  he  hears  of  it  he  will  summon 
me  before  his  council;  I  shall  have  no  rest  until  he  has  de-» 
prived  me  of  my  throne  and  my  life."* 

Da  Casale  hastened  to  forward  to  London  the  result  of  the 
conference.  Clement  being  unable  to  untie  the  knot,  re- 
quested Henry  to  cut  it.  Will  this  prince  hesitate  to  employ 
so  easy  a  means,  the  pope  (Clement  declared  it  himself)  be- 
ing willing  to  ratify  everything  ? 

Here  closes  Henry's  first  campaign  in  the  territories  of  the 
popedom.  We  shall  now  see  the  results  of  so  many  efforts. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Disappointment  in  England — War  declared  against  Charles  V. — Wolsey 
desires  to  get  him  deposed  by  the  Pope — A  new  Scheme — Embassy  of 
Fox  .and  Gardiner — Their  Arrival  at  Orvieto— Their  first  Interview 
with  Clement— The  Pope  reads  a  Treatise  by  Henry  —  Gardiner's 
Threats  and  Clement's  Promise— The  Modern  Fabius— Fresh  Inter- 
view and  Menaces— The  Pope  has  not  the  Key — Gardiner's  Proposition 
— Difficulties  and  Delays  of  the  Cardinals— Gardiner's  last  Blows — 
Reverses  of  Charles  V.  in  Italy— The  Pope's  Terror  and  Concession — 
The  Commission  granted — Wolsey  demands  the  Engagement — A  Loop- 
hole— The  Pope's  Distress. 

NEVER  was  disappointment  more  complete  than  that  felt  by 
Henry  and  Wolsey  after  the  arrival  of  Gambara  with  the 
commission ;  the  king  was  angry,  the  cardinal  vexed.  What 
Clement  called  the  sacrifice  of  his  life  was  in  reality  but  a 
sheet  of  paper  fit  only  to  be  thrown  into  the  fire.  "  This 
commission  is  of  no  value,"-}-  said  Wolsey. — "  And  even  to 

*  Vocabit  enm  ad  concilium,  vel  nihil  alind  quaeret,  nisi  ut  enm  omul 
Etatu  et  vita  privet.    Burnet,  ii.,  Records,  p.  xxvi. 
f  Nullius  at  roboris  vel  effeotus.    State  Papers,  vii.  p.  fO. 


344  WAR  DECLARED  AGAINST  CHARLES. 

put  it  into  execution,"  added  Henry,  "  we  must  wait  until 
the  imperialists  have  quitted  Italy!  The  pope  is  putting  us 
off  to  the  Greek  calends." — "  His  holiness,"  observed  the 
cardinal,  "  does  not  bind  himself  to  pronounce  the  divorce ; 
the  queen  will  therefore  appeal  from  our  judgment." — "And 
even  .if  the  pope  had  bound  himself,"  added  the  king,  "  it 
would  be  sufficient  for  the  emperor  to  smile  upon  him,  to 
make  him  retract  what  he  had  promised." — "  It  is  all  a  cheat 
and  a  mockery,"  concluded  both  king  and  minister. 

What  was  to  be  done  next?  The  only  way  to  make 
Clement  ours,  thought  Wolsey,  is  to  get  rid  of  Charles ;  it  is 
time  his  pride  was  brought  down.  Accordingly,  on  the  21st 
of  January  1528,  France  and  England  declared  hostilities 
against  the  Emperor.  When  Charles  heard  of  this  proceed- 
ing he  exclaimed :  "  I  know  the  hand  that  has  flung  the 
torch  of  war  into  the  midst  of  Europe.  My  crime  is  not 
having  placed  the  cardinal  of  York  on  St  Peter's  throne." 

A  mere  declaration  of  war  was  not  enough  for  Wolsey ; 
the  bishop  of  Bayonne,  ambassador  from  France,  seeing  him 
one  day  somewhat  excited,*  whispered  in  his  ear :  "  In  for- 
mer times  popes  have  deposed  emperors  for  smaller  offences." 
Charles's  deposition  would  have  delivered  the  king  of  France 
from  a  troublesome  rival ;  but  Du  Bcllay,  fearing  to  take  the 
initiative  in  so  bold  an  enterprise,  suggested  the  idea  to  the 
cardinal.  Wolsey  reflected :  such  a  thought  had  never  be- 
fore occurred  to  him.  Taking  the  ambassador  aside  to  a 
window,  he  there  swore  stoutly,  said  Du  Bellay,  that  he 
should  be  delighted  to  use  all  his  influence  to  get  Charles 
deposed  by  the  pope.  "  No  one  is  more  likely  than  your- 
self," replied  the  bishop,  "  to  induce  Clement  to  do  it." — "  I 
will  use  all  my  credit,"  rejoined  Wolsey,  and  the  two  priests 
separated.  This  bright  idea  the  cardinal  never  forgot. 
Charles  had  robbed  him  of  the  tiara ;  he  will  retaliate  by 
depriving  Charles  of  his  crown.  An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a 
tooth  for  a  tooth.  Staffileo,  dean  of  the  Rota,  was  then  in 
London,  and,  still  burning  with  resentment  against  the  author 
of  the  Sack  of  Rome,  he  favourably  received  the  suggestions 
Wolsey  made  to  him;  and,  finally,  the  envoy  from  John 
*  Du  Bellay  to  Francis  I.  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  64. 


WOLSEY'S  NEW  PROJECT.  345 

Zapolya,  king-elect  of  Hungary,  supported  the  project.  But 
the  kings  of  France  and  England  were  not  so  easily  induced 
to  put  the  thrones  of  kings  at  the  disposal  of  the  priests.  It 
appears,  however,  that  the  pope  was  sounded  on  the  subject , 
and  if  the  emperor  had  been  beaten  in  Italy,  it  is  probable 
that  the  bull  would  have  been  fulminated  against  him.  .  His 
sword  preserved  his  crown,  and  the  plot  of  the  two  bishops 
failed. 

The  king's  councillors  began  to  seek  for  less  heroic  means. 
"  We  must  prosecute  the  affair  at  Rome"  said  some. — "  No," 
said  others,  "  in  England.  The  pope  is  too  much  afraid  of 
the  emperor  to  pronounce  the  divorce  in  person." — "  If  the 
pope  fears  the  emperor  more  than  the  king  of  England," 
exclaimed  the  proud  Tudor,  "  we  shall  find  some  other  way 
to  set  him  at  ease."*  Thus,  at  the  first  contradiction,  Henry 
placed  his  hand  on  his  sword,  and  threatened  to  sever  the  ties 
which  bound  his  kingdom  to  the  throne  of  the  Italian  pontiff. 

"  I  have  hit  it !"  said  Wolsey  at  length ;  "  we  must  com- 
bine the  two  plans — judge  the  affair  in  London,  and  at  the 
same  time  bind  the  pontiff  at  Rome."  And  then  the  able 
cardinal  proposed  the  draft  of  a  bull,  by  which  the  pope, 
delegating  his  authority  to  two  legates,  should  declare  that 
the  acts  of  that  delegation  should  have  a  perpetual  effect, 
notwithstanding  any  contrary  decrees  that  might  subse- 
quently emanate  from  his  infallible  authority .-{-  A  new  mis- 
sion was  decided  upon  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  bold 
design. 

Wolsey,  annoyed  by  the  folly  of  Knight  and  his  colleagues, 
desired  men  of  another  stamp.  He  therefore  cast  his  eyes 
on  his  own  secretary,  Stephen  Gardiner,  an  active  man,  in- 
telligent, supple,  and  crafty,  a  learned  canonist^  desirous  of 
the  king's  favour,  and,  above  all,  a  good  Romanist,  which  nt 
Rome  was  not  without  its  advantage.  Gardiner  was  in 
small  the  living  image  of  his  master ;  and  hence  the  cardinal 
sometimes  styled  him  the  half  of  himself .\  Edward  Fox,  the 

*  Burnet's  Reformation,  i.  p.  50. 

f  Non  obstantibus  quibuscunque  decretis  ro vocatoriis  praesentis  concrs- 
sionis  nostril-.    Burnet,  Records,  ii.  p.  xvii. 
J  Mei  dimidium.    Ibid.  p.  XT. 


346  THE  ENVOYS  AT  ORVIETO. 

chief  almoner,  was  joined  with  him— a  moderate,  influential 
man,  a  particular  friend  of  Henry's,  and  a  zealous  advocate 
of  the  divorce.  Fox  was  named  first  in  the  commission ; 
but  it  was  agreed  that  Gardiner  should  be  the  real  head  of 
the  embassy.  "  Repeat  without  ceasing,"  Wolsey  told  them, 
"  that  his  majesty  cannot  do  otherwise  than  separate  from 
the  queen.  Attack  each  one  on  his  weak  side.  Declare  to 
the  pope  that  the  king  promises  to  defend  him  against  the 
emperor;  and  to  the  cardinals  that  their  services  will  be 
nobly  rewarded.*  If  that  does  not  suffice,  let  the  energy  of 
your  words  be  such  as  to  excite  a  wholesome  fear  in  the 
pontiff." 

Fox  and  Gardiner,  after  a  gracious  reception  at  Paris 
(23d  February)  by  Francis  I.,  arrived  at  Orvieto  on  the  20th 
of  March,  after  many  perils,  and  with  their  dress  in  such  dis- 
order, that  no  one  could  have  taken  them  for  ambassadors 
of  Henry  VIII.  "What  a  city!"  they  exclaimed,  as  they 
passed  through  its  streets ;  "  what  ruins,  what  misery !  It 
is  indeed  truly  called  Orvieto  (urbs  vetus]  \ "  The  state  of 
the  town  gave  them  no^very  grand  idea  of  the  state  of  the 
popedom,  and  they  imagined  that  with  a  pontiff  so  poorly 
lodged,  their  negotiation  could  not  be  otherwise  than  easy. 
"  I  give  you  my  house,"  said  Da  Casale,  to  whom  they  went, 
"  my  room  and  my  own  bed ; "  and  as  they  made  some  ob- 
jections, he  added :  "  It  is  not  possible  to  lodge  you  else- 
where ;  I  have  even  been  forced  to  borrow  what  was  neces- 
sary to  receive  you."-j-  Da  Casale,  pressing  them  to  change 
their  clothes,  which  were  still  dripping  (they  had  just  crossed 
a  river  on  their  mules),  they  replied,  that  being  obliged  to 
travel  post,  they  had  not  been  able  to  bring  a  change  of  rai- 
ment. "Alas!"  said  Casale,  "what  is  to  be  done?  there 
are  few  persons  in  Orvieto  who  have  more  garments  than 
one; |  even  the  shopkeepers  have  no  cloth  for  sale;  this 
town  is  quite  a  prison.  People  say  the  pope  is  at  liberty 
here.  A  pretty  liberty  indeed !  Want,  impure  air,  wretched 
lodging,  and  a  thousand  other  inconveniences,  keep  the  holy 

*  Money  to  present  the  cardinals.    Strype's  Mem.  i.  p.  137.. 
f  Borrowing  of  diyers  men  so  much  as  might  furnish  thre«  beds. 
Ibid.  p.  139.  JIbid 


FIKST  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  POPE.  347 

father  closer  than  when  he  was  in  the  Castle  of  St  Angelo. 
Accordingly,  he  told  me  the  other  day,  it  was  better  to  be  in 
captivity  at  Rome  than  at  liberty  here."* 

In  two  days,  however,  they  managed  to  procure  some  new 
clothing ;  and  being  now  in  a  condition  to  show  themselves, 
Henry's  agents  were  admitted  to  an  after-dinner  audience  on 
Monday  the  22d  of  March  (1528). 

Da  Casale  conducted  them  to  an  old  building  in  ruins. 
"  This  is  where  his  holiness  lives,"  he  said.  They  looked  at 
one  another  with  astonishment,  and  crossing  the  rubbish 
lying  about,  passed  through  three  chambers  whose  ceilings 
had  fallen  in,  whose  windows  were  curtainless,  and  in  which 
thirty  persons,  "riff-raf,  were  standing  against  the  bare 
walls  for  a  garnishment."-}-  This  was  the  pope's  court. 

At  length  the  ambassadors  reached  the  pontiff's  room,  and 
placed  Henrys  letters  in  his  hands.  "  Your  holiness,"  said 
Gardiner,  "when  sending  the  king  a  "dispensation,  was 
pleased  to  add,  that  if  this  document  were  not  sufficient,  you 
would  willingly  give  a  better.  It  is  that  favour  the  king 
now  desires."  The  pope  with  embarrassment  strove  to 
soften  his  refusal.  "  I  am  informed,"  he  said,  "  that  the  king 
is  led  on  in  this  affair  by  a  secret  inclination,  and  that  the 
lady  he  loves  is  far  from  being  worthy  of  him."  Gardiner 
replied  with  firmness:  "The  king  truly  desires  to  marry 
again  after  the  divorce,  that  he  may  have  an  heir  to  the 
crown ;  but  the  woman  he  proposes  to  take  is  animated  by 
the  noblest  sentiments ;  the  cardinal  of  York  and  all  Eng- 
land do  homage  to  her  virtues." \  The  pope  appeared  con- 
vinced. "  Besides,"  continued  Gardiner,  "  the  king  has 
written  a  book  on  the  motives  of  his  divorce." — "  Good  ! 
come  and  read  it  to  me  to-morrow,"  rejoined  Clement. 

The  next  day  the  English  envoys  had  hardly  appeared 
before  Clement  took  Henry's  book,  ran  over  it  as  he  walked 
up  and  down  the  room,  and  then  seating  himself  on  a  long 
bench  covered  with  an  old  carpet,  "  not  worth  twenty  pence." 
says  an  arnalist,  he  read  the  book  aloud.  He  counted  the 

"  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  63.  f  Strype,  i.  p.  139. 

t  The  -ivdinal's  judgment  as  to  the  good  qualities  of  the  gentlewoman. 
Ibid.  p.  J41.  . 


348  THE  POPE  THREATENED 

number  of  arguments,  made  objections  as  if  Henry  were  pre- 
sent, and  piled  them  one  upon  another  without  waiting  for 
an  answer.  "  The  marriages  forbidden  in  Leviticus,"  said 
he,  in  a  short  and  quick  tone  of  voice,  "  are  permitted  in 
Deuteronomy;  now  Deuteronomy  coming  after  Leviticus, 
we  are  bound  by  the  latter.  The  honour  of  Catherine  and 
the  emperor  is  at  stake,  and  the  divorce  would  give  rise  to  a 
terrible  war."*  The  pope  continued  speaking,  and  when- 
ever the  Englishmen  attempted  to  reply,  he  bade  them  be 
silent,  and  kept  on  reading.  "  It  is  an  excellent  book,"  said 
he,  however,  in  a  courteous  tone,  when  he  had  ended ;  "  I 
shall  keep  it  to  read  over  again  at  my  leisure."  Gardiner 
then  presenting  a  draft  of  the  commission  which  Henry  re- 
quired, Clement  made  answer :  "  It  is  too  late  to  look  at  it 
now ;  leave  it  with  me." — "  But  we  are  in  haste,"  added 
Gardiner. — "  Yes,  yes,  I  know  it,"  said  the  pope.  All  his 
efforts  tended  to  protract  the  business. 

On  the  28th  of  March,  the  ambassadors  were  conducted 
to  the  room  in  which  the  pope  slept ;  the  cardinals  Sanctorum 
Quatuor  and  De  Monte,  as  well  as  the  councillor  of  the 
Rota,  Simonetta,  were  then  with  him.  Chairs  were  ar- 
ranged in  a  semicircle.  "  Be  seated,"  said  Clement,  who 
stood  in  the  middle.-]-  "  Master  Gardiner,  now  tell  me  what 
you  want." — "  There  is  no  question  between  us.  but  one  of 
time.  You  promised  to  ratify  the  divorce,  as  soon  as  it  was 
pronounced ;  and  we  require  you  to  do  before  what  you  en- 
gage to  do  after.  What  is  right  on  one  day,  must  be  right 
on  another."  Then,  raising  his  voice,  the  Englishman  added : 
"  If  his  majesty  perceives  that  no  more  respect  is  paid  to  him 
than  to  a  common  man,:}:  he  will  have  recourse  to  a  remedy 
which  I  will  not  name,  but  which  will  not  fail  in  its  effect." 

The  pope  and  his  councillors  looked  at  one  another  in 
silence ;  §  they  had  understood  him.  The  imperious  Gardi- 
ner, remarking  the  effect  which  he  had  produced,  then  added 

*  Quis  praestabit  ne  hoc  divortium  magni  alicujus  belli  causam  prsebeat. 
Sanderus,  p.  26. 

•f-  In  medio  semicirculi.    Strype,  Records,  i.  p.  81. 
J  Promiscuse  plebis.    Ibid.  p.  82. 
§  Every  man  looked  on  other  and  BO  stayed.    Ibid. 


THE  TEMPORIZER.  349 

in  an  absolute  tone :  "  We  have  our  instructions,  and  are 
determined  to  keep  to  them." — "  I  am  ready  to  do  everything 
compatible  with  my  honour,"  exclaimed  Clement,  in  alarm. 
— "  What  your  honour  would  not  permit  you  to  grant,"  said 
the  proud  ambassador,  "  the  honour  of  the  king,  my  master, 
would  not  permit  him  to  ask."  Gardiner's  language  became 
more  imperative  every  minute.  "  Well,  then,"  said  Clement, 
driven  to  extremity,  "  I  will  do  what  the  king  demands,  and 
if  the  emperor  is  angry,  I  cannot  help  it."  The  interview, 
which  had  commenced  with  a  storm,  finished  with  a  gleam 
of  sunshine. 

That  bright  gleam  soon  disappeared  :  Clement,  who 
imagined  he  saw  in  Henry  a  Hannibal  at  war  with  Rome, 
wished  to  play  the  temporizer,  the  Fabius  Cunctalor.  "  Bis 
dat  qui  cito  dat"  *  said  Gardiner  sharply,  who  observed  this 
manoeuvre. — "  It  is  a  question  of  law,"  replied  the  pope, 
"  and  as  I  am  very  ignorant  in  these  matters,  I  must  give 
the  doctors  of  the  canon  law  the  necessary  time  to  make  it 
all  clear." — "  By  his  delays  Fabius  Maximus  saved  Rome," 
rejoined  Gardiner;  "you  will  destroy  it  by  yours." •{• — 
"  Alas !"  exclaimed  the  pope,  "  if  I  say  the  king  is  right,  I 
shall  have  to  go  back  to  prison."  J — "When  truth  is  con- 
cerned," said  the  ambassador,  "  of  what  consequence  are  the 
opinions  of  men  ?"  Gardiner  was  speaking  at  his  ease,  but 
Clement  found  that  the  castle  of  St  Angelo  was  not  without 
weight  in  the  balance.  "  You  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  do 
everything  for  the  best,"  replied  the  modern  Fabius.  With 
these  words  the  conference  terminated. 

Such  were  the  struggles  of  England  with  the  popedom — 
struggles  which  were  to  end  in  a  definitive  rupture.  Gar- 
diner knew  that  he  had  a  skilful  adversary  to  deal  with; 
too  cunning  to  allow  himself  to  be  irritated,  he  coolly  re- 
solved to  frighten  the  pontiff:  that  was  in  his  instructions. 
On  the  Friday  before  Palm  Sunday,  he  was  ushered  into 
the  pope's  closet ;  there  he  found  Clement  attended  by  De 

*  He  gives  twice  who  gives  qnickly. 

f  In  Fabio  Maximo  qui  rem  Romanam  cunctaudo  restituit.    Strvpe, 
p.  90. 
£  Matcria  novae  captiritatis.    Ibid.  p.  86. 


350  GARDINER'S  MENACES. 

Monte,  Sanctorum  Quatuor,  Simonetta,  Staffileo,  Paul, 
auditor  of  the  Rota,  and  Gambara.  "It  is  impossible," 
said  the  cardinals,  "  to  grant  a  decretal  commission  in  which 
the  pope  pronounces  de  jure  in  favour  of  the  divorce,  with  a 
promise  of  confirmation  de  facto"  Gardiner  insisted  ;  but 
no  persuasion,  "  neither  dulce  nor  poynante,"*  could  move 
the  pontiff.  The  envoy  judged  the  moment  had  come  to 
discharge  his  strongest  battery.  "  0  perverse  race,"  said  he 
to  the  pontiff's  ministers,  "  instead  of  being  harmless  as 
doves,  you  are  as  full  of  dissimulation  and  malice  as  ser- 
pents ;  promising  everything  but  performing  nothing.  •{• 
England  will  be  driven  to  believe  that  God  has  taken  from 
you  the  key  of  knowledge,  and  that  the  laws  of  the  popes, 
ambiguous  to  the  popes  themselves,  are  only  fit  to  be  cast 
into  the  fire.J  The  king  has  hitherto  restrained  his  people, 
impatient  of  the  Romish  yoke ;  but  he  will  now  give  them 
the  rein."  A  long  and  gloomy  silence  followed.  Then  the 
Englishman,  suddenly  changing  his  tone,  softly  approached 
Clement,  who  had  left  his  seat,  and  conjured  him  in  a  low 
voice  to  consider  carefully  what  justice  required  of  him. 
"  Alas  !"  replied  Clement,  "I  tell  you  again,  I  am  ignorant 
in  these  matters.  According  to  the  maxims  of  the  canon 
law  the  pope  carries  all  laws  in  the  tablets  of  his  heart,§  but 
unfortunately  God  has  never  given  me  the  key  that  opens 
them."  As  he  could  not  escape  by  silence,  Clement  re- 
treated under  cover  of  a  jest,  and  heedlessly  pronounced  the 
condemnation  of  the  popedom.  If  he  had  never  received 
the  famous  key,  there  was  no  reason  why  other  pontiffs 
should  have  possessed  it.  '  The  next  day  he  found  another 
loophole ;  for  when  the  ambassadors  told  him  that  the  king 
would  carry  on  the  matter  without  him,  he  sighed,  drew 
out  his  handkerchief,  and  said  as  he  wiped  his  eyes :  || 
"Would  to  God  that  I  were  dead!"  Clement  employed 
tears  as  a  political  engine. 

*  Strype,  Records,  p.  114. 

•f-  Pleni  omni  dolo  et  versatione  et  dissimulatione.  Verbis  oinuia 
pollicentur,  reipsa  nihil  prsestant.  Ibid.  p.  98. 

J  Digna  esse  quae  mandentur  flammis  pontificia  jura.    Ibid. 

§  Pontifex  habet  omnia jura  in  scrinio  pectoris.    Ibid.  p.  9f. 

H  Ibid.  p.  100. 


THE  GENERAL  COMMISSION.  351 

"  We  shall  not  get  the  decretal  commission,"  (that  which 
pronounced  the  divorce),  said  Fox  and  Gardiner  after  this, 
"  and  it  is  not  really  necessary.  Let  us  demand  the  general 
commission  (authorizing  the  legates  to  pronounce  it),  and 
exact  a  promise  that  shall  supply  the  place  of  the  act 
which  is  denied  us."  Clement,  who  was  ready  to  make  all 
the  promises  in  the  world,  swore  to  ratify  the  sentence  of 
the  legates  without  delay.  Fox  and  Gardiner  then  pre- 
sented to  Simonetta  a  draft  of  the  act  required.  The  dean, 
after  reading  it,  returned  it  to  the  envoys,  saying,  "  It  is 
very  well,  I  think,  except  the  end;*  show  it  Sanctorum 
Quatuor."  The  next  morning  they  carried  the  draft  to  that 
cardinal :  "  How  long  has  it  been  the  rule  for  the  patient  to 
write  the  prescription  ?  I  always  thought  it  was  the  physi- 
cian's business." — "No  one  knows  the  disease  so  well  as  the 
patient,"  replied  Gardiner:  "and  this  disease  may  be  of  such 
a  nature  that  the  doctor  cannot  prescribe  the  remedy  with- 
out taking  the  patient's  advice."  Sanctorum  Quatuor  read 
the  prescription,  and  then  returned  it,  saying :  "  It  is  not 
bad,  with  the  exception  of  the  beginning.-^  Take  the  draft 
to  De  Monte  and  the  other  councillors."  The  latter  liked 
neither  beginning,  middle,  nor  end.  "  We  will  send  for  you 
this  evening,"  said  De  Monte. 

Three  or  four  days  having  elapsed,  Henry's  envoys  again 
waited  on  the  pope,  who  showed  them  the  draft  prepared  by 
his  councillors.  Gardiner  remarking  in  it  additions,  re- 
trenchments, and  corrections,  threw  it  disdainfully  from  him, 
and  said  coldly  :  "  Your  holiness  is  deceiving  us ;  you  have 
selected  these  men  to  be  the  instruments  of  your  duplicity." 
Clement,  in  alarm,  sent  for  Simonetta ;  and  after  a  warm 
discussion,  f  the  envoys,  more  discontented  than  ever, 
quitted  the  pope  at  one  in  the  morning. 

The  night  brings  wisdom.  "  I  only  desire  two  little 
words  more  in  the  commission,"  said  Gardiner  next  day  to 
Clement  and  Simonetta.  The  pope  requested  Simonetta  to 
wait  upon  the  cardinals  immediately ;  the  latter  sent  word 

•  The  matter  was  good  saving  in  the  latter  end.    Strype,  p.  102. 
t  The  beginning  pleased  him  nol.    Ibid.  p.  103. 
t  Inoalescente  disputatione.     Ibid.  p.  104. 


352  A  NEW  TRAGEDY, 

that  they  were  at  dinner,  and  adjourned  the  business  until 
the  morrow. 

When  Gardiner  heard  of  this  epicurean  message,  he 
thought  the  time  had  come  for  striking  a  decisive  blow.  A 
new  tragedy  began.*  "  We  are  deceived,"  exclaimed  he 
"  you  are  laughing  at  us.  This  is  not  the  way  to  gain  the 
favour  of  princes.  Water  mixed  with  wine  spoils  it ;  -j-  your 
corrections  nullify  our  document.  These  ignorant  and  sus- 
picious priests  have  spelled  over  our  draft  as  if  a  scorpion 
was  hidden  under  every  word.| — You  made  us  come  to 
Italy,"  said  he  to  Staffileo  and  Gambara,  "  like  hawks 
which  the  fowler  lures  by  holding  out  to  them  a  piece  of 
meat ;  §  and  now  that  we  are  here-,  the  bait  has  disappeared, 
and,  instead  of  giving  us  what  we  sought,  you  pretend  to 
lull  us  to  sleep  by  the  sweet  voice  of  the  sirens,"  ||  Then, 
turning  to  Clement,  the  English  envoy  added,  "  Your  holi- 
ness will  have  to  answer  for  this."  The  pope  sighed  and 
wiped  away  his  tears.  "  It  was  God's  pleasure,"  continued 
Gardiner,  whose  tone  became  more  threatening  every 
minute,  "  that  we  should  see  with  our  own  eyes  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  people  here.  It  is  time  to  have  done.  Henry  is 
not  an  ordinary  prince, — bear  in  mind  that  you  are  insult- 
ing the  defender  of  the  faith You  are  going  to  lose  the 

favour  of  the  only  monarch  who  protects  you,  and  the 
apostolical  chair,  already  tottering,  will  fall  into  dust,  and 
disappear  entirely  amidst  the  applause  of  all  Christendom." 

Gardiner  paused.  The  pope  was  moved.  The  state  of 
Italy  seemed  to  confirm  but  too  strongly  the  sinister  predic- 
tions of  the  envoy  of  Henry  VIII.  The  imperial  troops, 
terrified  and  pursued  by  Lautrec,  had  abandoned  Rome  and 
retired  on  Naples.  The  French  general  was  following  up 
this  wretched  army  of  Charles  V.,  decimated  by  pestilence 
and  debauchery ;  Doria,  at  the  head  of  his  galleys,  had  de- 
stroyed the  Spanish  fleet ;  .Gaeta  and  Naples  only  were  left 

*  Here  began  a  new  tragedy.    Strype,  p.  105. 

•(•  Vinum  conspurcat  infusa  aqua.    Ibid. 

J  Putantes  sub  omni  verbo  latere  scorpionem.    Ibid. 

§  Praetendere  pugno  carnem.    Ibid. 

||  Dnleibus  sirenum  vocibus  incaiitare.    Ibid. 


THE  COMMISSION  GRANTED.  353 

to  the  imperialists ;  and  Lautrec,  who  was  besieging  the 
latter  place,  wrote  to  Henry  on  the  26th  of  August  that  all 
would  soon  be  over.  The  timid  Clement  VII.  had  atten- 
tively watched  all  these  catastrophes.  Accordingly,  Gar- 
diner had  hardly  denounced  the  danger  which  threatened 
the  popedom,  before  he  turned  pale  with  affright,  rose  from 
his  seat,  stretched  out  his  arms  in  terror,  as  if  he  had 
desired  to  repel  some  monster  ready  to  devour  him,  and 
exclaimed,  "Write,  write!  Insert  whatever  words  you 
please."  As  he  said  this,  he  paced  up  and  down  the  room, 
raising  his  hands  to  heaven  and  sighing  deeply,  while  Fox 
and  Gardiner,  standing  motionless,  looked  on  in  silence.  A 
tempestuous  wind  seemed  to  be  stirring  the  depths  of  the 
abyss ;  the  ambassadors  waited  until  the  storm  was  abated. 
At  last  Clement  recovered  himself,*  made  a  few  trivial  ex- 
cuses, and  dismissed  Henry's  ministers.  It  was  an  hour 
past  midnight. 

It  was  neither  morality,  nor  religion,  nor  even  the  laws 
of  the  church  which  led  Clement  to  refuse  the  divorce  ;  am- 
bition and  fear  were  his  only  motives.  He  would  have 
desired  that  Henry  should  first  constrain  the  emperor  to 
restore  him  his  territories.  But  the  king  of  England,  who 
felt  himself  unable  to  protect  the  pope  against  Charles,  re- 
quired, however,  this  unhappy  pontiff  to  provoke  the 
emperor's  anger.  Clement  reaped  the  fruits  of  that  fatal 
system  which  had  transformed  the  church  of  Jesus  Christ 
into  a  pitiful  combination  of  policy  and  cunning. 

On  the  next  day,  the  tempest  having  thoroughly  abated,-f- 
Sanctorum  Quatuor  corrected  the  commission.  It  was 
signed,  completed  by  a  leaden  seal  attached  to  a  piece  of 
string,  and  then  handed  to  Gardiner,  who  read  it.  The  bull 
was  addressed  to  Wolsey,  and  "  authorized  him,  in  case  In.1 
should  acknowledge  the  nullity  of  Henry's  marriage,  to 
pronounce  judicially  the  sentence  of  divorce,  but  without 
noise  or  display  of  judgment  ;f  for  that  purpose  he  might 

*  Compositis  affectibus.    Strype,  p.  106. 
+  The  divers  tempests  passed  over.     Ibid. 

J  Sine  strepitu  ct  figura  judicii  sententiam  divortii  judicialiter  pro- 
fcrendam.     Rvnier,  Fcrdera,  vi.  pars  ii.  p.  05. 
VOL.  V.  16 


354  THE  ENGAGEMENT  CONCEDED. 

take  any  English  bishop  for  his  colleague." — "  All  that  we 
can  do  you  can  do,"  said  the  pope.  "  We  are  very  doubt- 
ful," said  the  importunate  Gardiner  after  reading  the  bull, 
"  whether  this  commission,  without  the  clauses  of  confirma- 
tion and  revocation,  will  satisfy  his  majesty ;  but  we  will  do 
all  in  our  power  to  get  him  to  accept  it." — "  Above  all,  do 
not  speak  of  our  altercations,"  said  the  pope.  Gardiner, 
like  a  discreet  diplomatist,  did  not  scruple  to  note  down 
every  particular  in  cipher  in  the  letters  whence  these  details 
are  procured.  "  Tell  the  king,"  continued  the  pontiff,  "  that 
this  commission  is  on  my  part  a  declaration  of  war  against 
the  emperor,  and  that  I  now  place  myself  under  his  majesty's 
protection."  The  chief  almoner  of  England  departed  for 
London  with  the  precious  document. 

But  one  storm  followed  close  upon  another.  Fox  had 
not  long  quitted  Orvieto  when  ^new  letters  arrived  from 
Wolsey,  demanding  the  fourth  of  the  acts  previously  re- 
quested, namely,  the  engagement  to  ratify  at  Rome  whatever 
the  commissioners  might  decide  in  England.  Gardiner  was 
to  set  about  it  in  season  and  out  of  season  ;  the  verbal  pro- 
mise of  the  pope  counted  for  nothing ;  this  document  must 
be  had,  whether  the  pope  was  ill,  dying,  or  dead.*  "Ego  et 
Rex  meus,  his  majesty  and  I  command  you,"  said  Wolsey ; 
"  this  divorce  is  of  more  consequence  to  us  than  twenty 
popedoms."-j-  The  English  envoy  renewed  the  demand. 
"  Since  you  refuse  the  decretal,"  he  said,  "  there  is  the 
greater  reason  why  you  should  not  refuse  the  engagement" 
This  application  led  to  fresh  discussion  and  fresh  tears. 
Clement  gave  way  once  more ;  but  the  Italians,  more  crafty 
than  Gardiner,  reserved  a  loophole  in  the  document  through 
which  the  pontiff  might  escape.  The  messenger  Thaddeus 
carried  it  to  London ;  and  Gardiner  left  Orvieto  for  Rome  to 
confer  with  Campeggio. 

Clement  was  a  man  of  penetrating  mind,  and  although  he 
knew  as  well  as  any  how  to  deliver  a  clever  speech,  he  was 

*  In  capu  mortis  pontificis,  quod  Deus  ayertat.  Burnet,  Records, 
p.  xxviii. 

f  The  thing  which  the  king's  highness  and  I  more  esteem  than  twenty 
papalities,  Ibid,  p,  xxv. 


CLEMENT'S  PERPLEXITY.  355 

irresolute  and  timid ;  and  accordingly  the  commission  had 
not  long  been  despatched  before  he  repented.  Full  of  dis- 
tress, he  paced  the  ruined  chambers  of  his  old  palace,  and 
imagined  he  saw  hanging  over  his  head  that  terrible  sword 
of  Charles  the  Fifth,  whose  edge  he  had  already  felt. 
"  Wretch  that  I  am,"  said  he ;  "  cruel  wolves  surround  me ; 

they  open  their  jaws  to  swallow  me  up.. I  see  none 

but  enemies  around  me.     At  their  head  is   the  emperor 

What  will  he  do?    Alas!  I  have  yielded  that  fatal 

commission  which  the  general  of  the  Spanish  observance 
had  enjoined  me  to  refuse.  Behind  Charles  come  the 

Venetians,  the  Florentines,  the  Duke  of  Ferrara They 

have   cast    lots   upon   my  vesture.* Next    comes    the 

king  of  France,  who  promises  nothing,  but  looks  on  with 
folded  arms ;  or  rather,  what  perfidy !  calls  upon  me  at  this 

critical  moment  to  deprive  Charles  V.  of  his  crown And 

last,  but  not  least,  Henry  VIIL,  the  defender  of  the  faith, 

indulges  in  frightful  menaces  against  me The  emperor 

desires  to  maintain  the  queen  on  the  throne  of  England ; 

the  latter,  to  put  her  away Would  to  God  that  Catherine 

were  in  her  grave!    But,  alas!  she  lives...... to  be  the 

apple  of  discord  dividing  the  two  greatest  monarchies,  and 

the  inevitable  cause  of  the  ruin  of  the  popedom Wretched 

man  that  I  am !  how  cruel  is  my  perplexity,  and  around 
me  I  can  see  nothing  but  horrible  confusion."  -j* 

*  Novo  foedere  inito  super  vestem  suam  miserunt  sortem.  Strype, 
Records,  i.  p.  109. 

f  His  holiness  findeth  himself  in  a  marvellous  perplexity  and  con- 
fusion. Ibid.  p.  108. 


FOX'S  REPOBT  TO  HENKY  AND  ANNE. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Fox's  Report  to  Henry  and  Anne — Wolsey's  Impression — He  demands 
the  Decretal — One  of  the  Cardinal's  petty  Manoeuvres — He  sets  his 
Conscience  at  Rest— Gardiner  fails  at  Rome — Wolsey's  new  Perfidy— 
The  King's  Anger  against  the  Pope — Sir  T.  More  predicts  Religious 
Liberty  -Immorality  of  Ultramontane  Socialism— Erasmus  invited — 
Wolsey's  last  Flight — Energetic  Efforts  at  Rome— Clement  grants  all 
— Wolsey  triumphs — Union  of  Rome  and  England. 

DURING  this  time  Fox  was  making  his  way  to  England. 
On  the  27th  of  April  he  reached  Paris ;  on  the  2d  of  May  he 
landed  at  Sandwich,  and  hastened  to  Greenwich,  where  he 
arrived  the  next  day  at  five  in  the  evening,  just  as  Wolsey 
had  left  for  London.  Fox's  arrival  was  an  event  of  great  im- 
portance. "  Let  him  go  to  Lady  Anne's  apartments,"  said 
the  king,  "  and  wait  for  me  there."  Fox  told  Anne  Boleyn 
of  his  and  Gardiner's  exertions,  and  the  success  of  their  mis- 
sion, at  which  she  expressed  her  very  great  satisfaction.  In- 
deed, more  than  a  year  had  elapsed  since  her  return  to  Eng- 
land, and  she  no  longer  resisted  Henry's  project.  "  Mistress 
Anne  always  called  me  Master  Stephen,"  wrote  Fox  to  Gar- 
diner, "  her  thoughts  were  so  full  of  you."  The  king  appeared 
and  Anne  withdrew. 

"  Tell  me  as  briefly  as  possible  what  you  have  done,"  said 
Henry.  Fox  placed,  in  the  king's  hands  the  pope's  insigni- 
ficant letter,  which  he  bade  his  almoner  read ;  then  that  from 
Staffileo,  which  was  put  on  one  side  ;  and,  lastly,  Gardiner's 
letter,  which  Henry  took  hastily  and  read  himself.  "  The 
pope  has  promised  us,"  said  Fox,  as  he  terminated  his  re- 
port, "  to  confirm  the  sentence  of  the  divorce,  as  soon  as  it 
has  been  pronounced  by  the  commissioners." — "  Excellent !" 
exclaimed  Henry ;  and  then  he  ordered  Anne  to  be  called  in. 
"  Repeat  before  this  lady,"  he  said  to  Fox,  "  what  you  have 
just  told  me."  The  almoner  did  so.  "  The  pope  is  convinced 


WOLSEY'S  DISCONTENT.  857 

of  the  justice  of  your  cause,"  he  said  in  conclusion,  "  and  the 
cardinal's  letter  has  convinced  him  that  my  lady  is  worthy 
of  the  throne  of  England." — "  Make  your  report  to  Wolsey 
this  very  night,"  said  the  king. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  chief  almoner  reached  the 
cardinal's  palace ;  he  had  gone  to  bed,  but  immediate  orders 
were  given  that  Fox  should  be  conducted  to  his  room.  Be- 
ing a  churchman,  Wolsey  could  understand  the  pope's  arti- 
fices better  than  Henry ;  accordingly,  as  soon  as  he  learnt 
that  Fox  had  brought  the  commission  only,  he  became 
alarmed  at  the  task  imposed  upon  him.  "  What  a  misfor- 
tune!"  he  exclaimed :  "  your  commission  is  no  better  than 
Gambara's However,  go  and  rest  yourself;  I  will  ex- 
amine these  papers  to-morrow."  Fox  withdrew  in  confusion. 
"  It  is  not  bad,"  said  Wolsey  the  next  day,  "  but  the  whole 
business  still  falls  on  me  alone ! — Never  mind,  I  must  wear 
a  contented  look,  or  else "  In  the  afternoon  he  sum- 
moned into  his  closet  Fox,  Dr  Bell,  and  Viscount  Rochford: 
"  Master  Gardiner  has  surpassed  himself,"  said  the  crafty 
supple  cardinal ;  "  what  a  man !  what  an  inestimable  trea- 
sure !  what  a  jewel  in  our  kingdom  !"* 
^Hc  did  not  mean  a  word  he  was  saying.  Wolsey  was 
dissatisfied  with  everything — with  the  refusal  of  the  decretal, 
and  with  the  drawing  up  of  the  commission,  as  well  as  of  the 
engagement  (which  arrived  soon  after  in  good  condition,  so 
far  as  the  outside  was  concerned).  But  the  king's  ill  hu- 
mour would  infallibly  recoil  on  Wolsey ;  so,  putting  a  good 
face  on  a  bad  matter,  he  ruminated  in  secret  on  the  means 
of  obtaining  what  had  been  refused  him.  "  Write  to  Gar- 
diner," said  he  to  Fox,  "  that  everything  makes  me  desire 
the  pope's  decretal — the  need  of  unburdening  my  conscience, 
of  being  able  to  reply  to  the  calumniators  who  will  attack 
my  judgment,-}-  and  the  thought  of  the  accidents  to  which 
the  life  of  man  is  exposed.  Let  his  holiness,  then,  pronounce 
the  divorce  himself;  we  engage  en  our  part  to  keep  his  reso- 

•  O  non  sestimandum  thesanrnm  margaritamque  regni  nostri.  Strype, 
Records,  i.  p.  119. 

t  Justissime  obstrucre  ora  calumniantium  et  temere  dissentientium. 
Ibid.  p.  120, 


358  WOLSEY'S  FRAUD. 

lution  secret.  But  order  Master  Stephen  to  employ  every 
kind  of  persuasion  that  his  rhetoric  can  imagine."  In  case 
the  pope  should  positively  refuse  the  decretal,  Wolsey  required 
that  at  least  Campeggio  should  share  the  responsibility  of 
the  divorce  with  him. 

This  was  not  all :  while  reading  the  engagement,  Wolsey 
discovered  the  loophole  which  had  escaped  Gardiner,  and 
this  is  what  he  contrived : — "  The  engagement  which  the 
pope  has  sent  us,"  he  wrote  to  Gardiner,  "  is  drawn  up  in 
such  terms  that  he  can  retract  it  at  pleasure ;  we  must  there- 
fore find  some  good  way  to  obtain  another.  You  may  do  it 
under  this  pretence.  You  will  appear  before  his  holiness 
with  a  dejected  air,  and  tell  him  that  the  courier,  to  whom 
the  conveyance  of  the  said  engagement  wras  intrusted,  fell 
into  the  water  with  his  despatches,  so  that  the  rescripts  were 
totally  defaced  and  illegible ;  that  I  have  not  dared  deliver 
it  into  the  king's  hands,  and  unless  his  holiness  will  grant 
you  a  duplicate,  some  notable  blame  will  be  imputed  unto 
you  for  not  taking  better  care  in  its  transmission.  And,  fur- 
ther, you  will  continue :  I  remember  the  expressions  of  the 
former  document,  and  to  save  your  holiness  trouble,  I  will 
dictate  them  to  your  secretary.  Then,"  added  Wolsey, 
"  while  the  secretary  is  writing,  you  will  find  means  to  in- 
troduce, without  its  being  perceived,  as  many/a£,  pregnant, 
and  available  words  as  possible,  to  bind  the  pope  and  enlarge 
my  powers,  the  politic  handling  of  which  the  king's  highness 
and  I  commit  unto  your  good  discretion."* 

Such  was  the  expedient  invented  by  Wolsey.  The  papal 
secretary,  imagining  he  was  making  a  fresh  copy  of  the  orig- 
inal document  (which  was,  by  the  way,  in  perfect  condition), 
was  at  the  dictation  of  the  ambassador  to  draw  up  another 
of  a  different  tenor.  The  "  politic  handling  "  of  the  cardinal- 
legate,  which  was  not  very  unlike  forgery,  throws  a  disgrace- 
ful light  on  the  policy  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Wolsey  read  this  letter  to  the  chief  almoner ;  and  then,  to 

set  his  conscience  at  rest,  he  added  piously  :  "  In  an  affair 

V  such  high  importance,  on  which  depends  the  glory  or  the 

ruin  of  the  realm, — my  honour  or  my  disgrace, — the  con- 

•  Burnet,  Records,  p.  xxx. 


HIS  HYPOCRISY.  359 

demnation  of  my  soul  or  my  everlasting  merit, — I  will  listen 
solely  to  the  voice  of  my  conscience,*  and  I  shall  act  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  be  able  to  render  an  account  to  God  without 
fear." 

Wolsey  did  more ;  it  seems  that  the  boldness  of  his  de- 
clarations reassured  him  with  regard  to  the  baseness  of  his 
works.  Being  at  Greenwich  on  the  following  Sunday,  he 
said  to  the  king  in  the  presence  of  Fox,  Bell,  "Wolman,  and 
Tuke :  "  I  am  bound  to  your  royal  person  more  than  any 
subject  was  ever  bound  to  his  prince.  I  am  ready  to  sacri- 
fice my  goods,  my  blood,  my  life  for  you But  my  obliga- 
tions towards  God  are  greater  still.  For  that  cause,  rather 
than  act  against  his  will,  I  would  endure  the  extremes!  evils.f 
I  would  suffer  your  royal  indignation,  and,  if  necessary,  de- 
liver my  body  to  the  executioners  that  they  might  cut  it  in 
pieces."  What  could  be  the  spirit  then  impelling  Wolsey  ? 
Was  it  blindness  or  impudence  ?  He  may  have  been  sincere 
in  the  words  he  addressed  to  Henry ;  at  the  bottom  of  his 
heart  he  may  have  desired  to  set  the  pope  above  the  king, 
and  the  church  of  Rome  above  the  kingdom  of  England ; 
and  this  desire  may  have  appeared  to  him  a  sublime  virtue, 
such  as  would  hide  a  multitude  of  sins.  What  the  public 
conscience  would  have  called  treason  was  heroism  to  the 
Romish  priest.  This  zeal  for  the  papacy  is  sometimes  met 
with  in  conjunction  with  the  most  flagrant  immorality.  If 
Wolsey  deceived  the  pope,  it  was  to  save  popery  in  the  realm 
of  England.  Fox,  Bell,  Wolman,  and  Tuke  listened  to  him 
with  astonishment.:}:  Henry,  who  thought  he  knew  his  man, 
received  these  holy  declarations  without  alarm ;  and  the  car- 
dinal, having  thus  eased  his  conscience,  proceeded  boldly  in 
his  iniquities.  It  seems,  however,  that  the  inward  reproaches 
which  he  silenced  in  public,  had  their  revenge  in  secret. 
One  of  his  officers  entering  his  closet  shortly  afterwards, 
presented  a  letter  addressed  to  Campeggio  for  his  signature. 
It  ended  thus  :  "  I  hope  all  things  shall  be  done  according  to 
the  will  of  God,  the  desire  of  the  king,  the  quiet  of  the  king- 

*  Reclamante  conscientia.    Strype,  Records,  i.  p.  124. 

t  Extrema  quaeque contra  conscientiam  suam.    Ibid.  p.  126. 

J  To  my  great  mervail  and  no  less  joy  and  comfort.    Ibid. 


360  -WOLSEY  BEGINS  TO  TREMBLE. 

dom,  and  to  our  honour  with  a  good  conscience"  The  car- 
dinal having  read  the  letter,  dashed  out  the  four  last  words.* 
Conscience  has  a  sting  from  which  none  can  escape,  not  even 
a  Wolsey. 

However,  Gardiner  lost  no  time  in  Italy.  When  he  met 
Campeggio  (to  'whom  Henry  VIII.  had  given  a  palace  at 
Eome,  and  a  bishopric  in  England),  he  entreated  him  to  go 
to  London  and  pronounce  the  divorce.  This  prelate,  who  was 
to  be  empowered  in  1530  with  authority  to  crush  Protestan- 
tism in  Germany,  seemed  bound  to  undertake  a  mission  that 
would  save  Romanism  in  Britain.  But  proud  of  his  position 
at  Rome,  where  he  acted  as  the  pope's  representative,  he 
cared  not  for  a  charge  that  would  undoubtedly  draw  upon 
him  either  Henry's  hatred  or  the  emperor's  anger.  He 
begged  to  be  excused.  The  pope  spoke  in  a  similar  tone. 
When  he  was  informed  of  this,  the  terrible  Tudor,  beginning 
to  believe  that  Clement  desired  to^ntangle  him,  as  the  hun- 
ter entangles  the  lion  in  his  toils,  gave  vent  to  his  anger  on 
Tuke,  Fox,  and  Gardiner,  but  particularly  on  Wolsey.  Nor 
were  reasons  wanting  for  this  explosion.  The  cardinal,  per- 
ceiving that  his  hatred  against  Charles  had  carried  him  too 
far,  pretended  that  it  was  without  his  orders  that  Clarencieux, 
bribed  by  France,  had  combined  with  the  French  ambassa- 
dor to  declare  war  against  the  emperor ;  and  added  that  he 
would  have  the  English  king-at-arms  put  to  death  as  he 
passed  through  Calais.  This  was  an  infallible  means  of 
preventing  disagreeable  revelations.  But  the  herald,  who 
had  been  forewarned,  crossed  by  way  of  Boulogne,  and, 
without  the  cardinal's  knowledge,  obtained  an  interview  with 
Henry,  before  whom  he  placed  the  orders  he  had  received 
from  Wolsey  in  three  consecutive  letters.  The  king,  aston- 
ished at  his  minister's  impudence,  exclaimed  profanely: 
"  0  Lord  Jesu,  the  man  in  whom  I  had  most  confidence  told 
me  quite  the  contrary."  He  then  summoned  Wolsey  before 
him,  and  reproached  him  severely  for  his  falsehoods.  The 
wretched  man  shook  like  a  leaf.  Henry  appeared  to  pardon 
him,  but  the  season  of  his  favour  had  passed  away.  Hence- 
forward he  kept  the  cardinal  as  one  of  those  instruments  we 
*  Burnet's  Ref.  vol.  i.  p.  41. 


THE  KING'S  ANOER  AGAINST  CLEMENT.  361 

make  use  of  for  a  time,  and  thdfc  throw  away  when  we  have 
no  further  need  of  them. 

The  king's  anger  against  the  pope  far  exceeded  that 
against  Wolsey ;  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  rose  from 
his  seat,  then  sat  down  again,  and  vented  his  wrath  in  the 
most  violent  language : — "  What  1"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  shall 
exhaust  my  political  combinations,  empty  my  treasury,  make 

war  upon  my  friends,  consume  my  forces and  for  whom? 

for  a  heartless  priest  who,  considering  neither  the  exi- 
gencies of  my  honour,  nor  the  peace  of  my  conscience,  nor 
the  prosperity  of  my  kingdom,  nor  the  numerous  benefits 
which  I  have  lavished  on  him,  refuses  me  a  favour,  which 
he  ought,  as  the  common  father  of  the  faithful,  to  grant  even 

to  an  enemy Hypocrite! You  cover  yourself  with  the 

cloak  of  friendship,  you  flattef  us  by  crafty  practices,*  but 
you  give  us  only  a  bastard  document,  and  you  say  like 
Pilate :  It  matters  little  to  me  if  this  king  perishes,  and  all 
his  kingdom  with  him ;  take  him  and  judge  him  according 

to  your  law ! I  understand  you you  wish  to  entangle 

us  in  the  briers,-]-  to  catch  us  in  a  trap,  to  lure  us  into  a  pit- 
fall  But  we  have  discovered  the  snare;  we  shall  escape 

from  your  ambuscade,  and  brave  your  power." 

Such  was  the  language  then  heard  at  the  court  of  Eng- 
land, says  an  historian.^:  The  monks  and  priests  began  to 
grow  alarmed,  while  the  most  enlightened  minds  already  saw 
in  the  distance  the  first  gleams  of  religious  liberty.  One 
day,  at  a  time  when  Henry  was  proving  himself  a  zealous 
follower  of  the  Romish  doctrines,  Sir  Thomas  More  was 
sitting  in  the  midst  of  his  family,  when  his  son-in-law, 
Roper,  now  become  a  warm  papist,  exclaimed:  "Happy 
kingdom  of  England,  where  no  heretic  dares  show  his  face!" 
— "  That  is  true,  son  Roper,"  said  More ;  "  we  seem  to  sit  now 
upon  the  mountains,  treading  the  heretics  under  our  feet  like 
ants ;  but  I  pray  God  that  some  of  us  do  not  live  to  see  the 
day  when  we  gladly  would  wish  to  be  at  league  with  them, 

•  By  crafty  means  and  under  the  face  and  visage  of  entire  amity. 
Strype,  i.  p.  166. 

+  To  involve  and  cast  us  so  in  th«  briers  and  fetters.    Ibid. 

*  Strype. 

»*•  Q 


362  SIR  T.  MORE'S  PROPHECY. 

to  suffer  them  to  have  thei^churches  quietly  to  themselves, 
so  that  they  would  be  content  to  let  us  have  ours  peaceably 
to  ourselves."  Roper  angrily  replied  :*  "  By  my  word,  sir, 
that  is  very  desperately  spoken!"  More,  however,  was  in 
the  right ;  genius  is  sometimes  a  great  diviner.  The  Refor- 
mation was  on  the  point  of  inaugurating  religious  liberty, 
and  by  that  means  placing  civil  liberty  on  an  immovable 
foundation. 

Henry  himself  grew  wiser  by  degrees.  He  began  to  have 
doubts  about  the  Roman  hierarchy,  and  to  ask  himself, 
whether  a  priest-king,  embarrassed  in  all  the  political  com- 
plications of  Europe,  could  be  the  head  of  the  church  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Pious  individuals  in  his  kingdom  recognised 
in  Scripture  and  in  conscience  a  law  superior  to  the  law  of 
Rome,  and  refused  to  sacrifice  at  the  command  of  the 
church  their  moral  convictions,  sanctioned  by  the  revelation 
of  God.  The  hierarchical  system,  which  claims  to  absorb 
man  in  the  papacy,  had  oppressed  the  consciences  of  Chris- 
tians for  centuries.  When  the  Romish  Church  had  required 
from  such  as  Berengarius,  John  Huss,  Savonarola,  John 
Wesel,  and  Luther,  the  denial  of  their  consciences  enlight- 
ened by  the  word,  that  is  to  say,  by  the  voice  of  God,  it  had 
shown  most  clearly  how  great  is  the  immorality  of  ultra 
montane  socialism.  "  If  the  Christian  consents  to  this  enor- 
mous demand  of  the  hierarchy,"  said  the  most  enlightened 
men ;  "  if  he  renounces  his  own  notions  of  good  and  evil  in 
favour  of  the  clergy ;  if  he  reserves  not  his  right  to  obey  God, 
who  speaks  to  him  in  the  Bible,  rather  than  men,  even  if 
their  agreement  were  universal ;  if  Henry  VIII.,  for  instance, 
should  silence  his  conscience,  which  condemns  his  union  with 
his  brother's  widow,  to  obey  the  clerical  voice  which  ap- 
proves of  it ;  by  that  very  act  he  renounces  truth,  duty,  and 
even  God  himself."  But  we  must  add,  that  if  the  rights  of 
conscience  were  beginning  to  be  understood  in  England,  it 
was  not  about  such  holy  matters  as  these  that  the  pope  and 
Henry  were  contending.  They  were  both  intriguers — both 
dissatisfied,  the  one  desirous  of  love,  the  other  of  power. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  a  feeling  of  disgust  for  Rome  then  took 
*  My  uncle  said  in  a  rage.    Here's  Life,  p.  132. 


ROMANISM  AND  CONSCIENCE.  363 

root  in  the  king's  heart,  and  nothing  could  afterwards  eradi- 
cate it.  He  immediately  made  every  exertion  to  attract 
Erasmus  to  London.  Indeed,  if  Henry  separated  from  the 
pope,  his  old  friends,  the  humanists,  must  be  his  auxiliaries, 
and  not  the  heretical  doctors.  But  Erasmus,  in  a  letter 
dated  1st  June,  alleged  the  weak  state  of  his  health,  the 
robbers  who  infested  the  roads,  the  wars  and  rumours  of 
wars  then  afloat.  "  Our  destiny  leads  us,"  he  said ;  "  let  us 
yield  to  it."*  It  is  a  fortunate  thing  for  England  that  Eras- 
mus was  not  its  reformer. 

Wolsey  noted  this  movement  of  his  master's,  and  resolved 
to  make  a  strenuous  effort  to  reconcile  Clement  and  Henry ; 
his  own  safety  was  at  stake.  He  wrote  to  the  pope,  to 
Campeggio,  to  Da  Casale,  to  all  Italy.  He  declared  that  if  he 
was  ruined,  the  popedom  would  be  ruined  too,  so  far  at  least 
as  England  was  concerned :  "  I  would  obtain  the  decretal  bull 
with  my  own  blood,  if  possible,"  -j-  he  added.  "  Assure  the 
holy  father  on  my  life  that  no  mortal  eye  shall  see  it." 
Finally,  he  ordered  the  chief  almoner  to  write  to  Gardiner : 
"  If  Campeggio  does  not  come,  you  shall  never  return  to 
England  ;"f  an  infallible  means  of  stimulating  the  secre- 
tary's zeal. 

This  was  the  last  effort  of  Henry  VIII.  Bourbon  and 
the  prince  of  Orange  had  not  employed  more  zeal  a  year 
before  in  scaling  the  walls  of  Rome.  Wolsey's  fire  had  in- 
flamed his  agents ;  they  argued,  entreated,  stormed,  and 
threatened.  The  alarmed  cardinals  and  theologians,  assem- 
bling at  the  pope's  call,  discussed  the  matter,  mixing 
political  interests  with  the  affairs  of  the  church.§  At  last 
they  understood  what  Wolsey  now  communicated  to  them. 
"  Henry  is  the  most  energetic  defender  of  the  faith,"  they 
said.  "  It  is  only  by  acceding  to  his  demand  that  we  can 
preserve  the  kingdom  of  England  to  the  popedom.  The 
army  of  Charles  is  in  full  flight,  and  that  of  Francis 

*  Fat  is  agimur,  fatis  cedendum.    Erasm.  Epp.  p.  1032. 
•f  Ut  vel  proprio  sanguine  id  vellemus  posse  a  S.  D.  N.  impetrare 
Burnet,  Records,  ii.  p.  19. 

J  Neither  should  Gardiner  ever  return.    Strype,  i.  p.  167. 
§  Negotia  ecclesiastica  politicis  rationibus  iiiterpolantes.  Sanders,  p.  97 


364  CLEMENT  GRANTS  ALL  THE  BULLS. 

triumphs."  The  last  of  these  arguments  decided  the  ques- 
tion ;  the  pope  suddenly  felt  a  great  sympathy  for  Wolsey 
and  for  the  English  church ;  the  emperor  was  beaten,  there- 
fore he  was  wrong.  Clement  granted  everything. 

First,  Campeggio  was  desired  to  go  to  London.  The 
pontiff  knew  that  he  might  reckon  on  his  intelligence  and  in- 
flexible adhesion  to  the  interests  of  the  hierarchy ;  even  the 
cardinal's  gout  was  of  use,  for  it  might  help  to  innumerable 
delays.  Next,  on  the  8th  of  June,  the  pope,  then  at  Viterbo, 
gave  a  new  commission,  by  which  he  conferred  on  Wolsey 
and  Campeggio  the  power  to  declare  null  and  void  the 
marriage  between  Henry  and  Catherine,  with  liberty  for  the 
king  and  queen  to  form  new  matrimonial  ties.*  A  few  days 
later  he  signed  the  famous  decretal  by  which  he  himself 
annulled  the  marriage  between  Henry  and  Catherine ;  but 
instead  of  intrusting  it  to  Gardiner,  he  gave  it  to  Campeggio, 
with  orders  not  to  let  it  go  out  of  his  hands.  Clement  was 
not  sure  of  the  course  of  events :  if  Charles  should  decidedly 
lose  his  power,  the  bull  would  be  published  in  the  face  of 
Christendom;  if  he  should  recover  it,  the  bull  would  be 
burnt.-}-  In  fact,  the  flames  did  actually  consume  some  time 
afterwards  this  decree  which  Clement  had  wetted  with  his 
tears  as  he  put  his  name  to  it.  Finally,  on  the  23d  of  July, 
the  pope  signed  a  valid  engagement,  by  which  he  declared 
beforehand  that  all  retractation  of  these  acts  should  be  null 
and  void.\  Campeggio  and  Gardiner  departed.  Charles's 
defeat  was  as  complete  at  Rome  as  at  Naples  ;  the  justice  of 
his  cause  had  vanished  with  his  army. 

Nothing,  therefore,  was  wanting  to  Henry's  desires.  He 
had  Campeggio,  the  commission,  the  decretal  bull  of  divorce 
signed  by  the  pope,  and  the  engagement  giving  an  irrevo- 
cable value  to  all  these  acts.  Wolsey  was  conqueror, — the 

conqueror  of  Clement! He  had  often  wished  to  mount 

the  restive  courser  of  the  popedom  and  to  guide  it  at  his 

*  Ad  alia  vota  commigrandi.    Herbert,  p.  262. 

t  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  78.  Dr  Lingard  acknowledges  the  existence 
of  this  bull  and  the  order  to  burn  it. 

£  Si  (quod  absit)  aliquid  contra  prsemissa  faciamus,  illud  pro  casso, 
Irrito,  inani  et  vacno  omnino  haberi  volumus.  Herbert,  p.  250. 


JOY  IN  ENGLAND.  365 

will,  but  each  time  the  unruly  steed  had  thrown  him  from 
the  saddle.  Now  he  was  firm  in  his  seat,  and  held  the  horse 
in  hand.  Thanks  to  Charles's  reverses,  he  was  master 
at  Rome.  The  popedom,  whether  it  was  pleased  or  not, 
must  take  the  road  he  had  chosen,  and  before  which  it  had 
so  long  recoiled.  The  king's  joy  was  unbounded,  and 
equalled  only  by  Wolsey's.  The  cardinal,  in  the  fulness  of 
his  heart,  wishing  to  show  his  gratitude  to  the  officers  of  the 
Roman  court,  made  them  presents  of  carpets,  horses.,  and 
vessels  of  gold.*  All  near  Henry  felt  the  effects  of  his  good 
humour.  Anne  smiled ;  the  court  indulged  in  amusements ; 
the  great  affair  was  about  to  be  accomplished ;  the  New 
Testament  to  be  delivered  to  the  flames.  The  union  be- 
tween England  and  the  popedom  appeared  confirmed  for 
ever,  and  the  victory  which  Rome  seemed  about  to  gain  in 
the  British  isles  might  secure  her  triumph  in  the  west.  Vain 
omens!  far  different  were  the  events  in  the  womb  of  the 
future. 

*  Nam  illi,  aulaea,  vas  aureum  ant  equi  maxime  probentur.    Burcet, 
Records,  i.  p.  x  v. 


BOOK  XX. 


THE  TWO  DIVORCES 


CHAPTER  I. 

Progress  of  the  Reformation — The  two  Divorces — Entreaties  to  Anne 
Boleyn— The  Letters  in  the  Vatican — Henry  to  Anne — Henry's 
Second  Letter — Third — Fourth — Wolsey's  Alarm— His  fruitless  Pro- 
ceedings— He  turns — The  Sweating  Sickness — Henry's  Fears — New 
Letters  to  Anne — Anne  falls  sick  ;  her  Peace— Henry  writes  to  her 
— Wolsey's  Terror — Campeggio  does  not  arrive — All  dissemble  at 
Court. 

WHILE  England  seemed  binding  herself  to  the  court  of 
Rome,  the  general  course  of  the  church  and  of  the  world 
gave  stronger  presage  every  day  of  the  approaching  emanci- 
pation of  Christendom.  The  respect  which  for  so  many 
centuries  had  hedged  in  the  Roman  pontiff  was  everywhere 
shaken ;  the  Reform,  already  firmly  established  in  several 
states  of  Germany  and  Switzerland,  was  extending  in 
France,  the  Low  Countries,  and  Hungary,  and  beginning  in 
Sweden,  Denmark,  and  Scotland.  The  South  of  Europe 
appeared  indeed  submissive  to  the  Romish  church;  but 
Spain,  at  heart,  cared  little  for  the  pontifical  infallibility; 
and  even  Italy  began  to  inquire  whether  the  papal  dominion 
was  not  an  obstacle  to  her  prosperity.  England,  notwith- 
standing appearances,  was  also  going  to  throw  off  the  yoke 
of  the  bishops  of  the  Tiber,  and  many  faithful  voices  might 
already  be  heard  demanding  that  the  word  of  God  should 
be  acknowledged  the  supreme  authority  in  the  church. 


IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  STRUGGLE  WITH  ROME.      367 

The  conquest  of  Christian  Britain  by  the  papacy  occupied 
all  the  seventh  century,  as  we  have  seen.  The  sixteenth 
was  the  counterpart  of  the  seventh.  The  struggle  which 
England  then  had  to  sustain,  in  order  to  free  herself  from 
the  power  that  had  enslaved  her  during  nine  hundred  years, 
was  full  of  sudden  changes ;  like  those  of  the  times  of 
Augustine  and  Oswy.  This  struggle  indeed  took  place  in 
each  of  the  countries  where  the  church  was  reformed ;  but 
nowhere  can  it  be  traced  in  all  its  diverse  phases  so  dis- 
tinctly as  in  Great  Britain.  The  positive  work  of  the  Re- 
formation— that  which  consisted  in  recovering  the  truth  and 
life  so  long  lost — was  nearly  the  same  everywhere ;  but  as 
regards  the  negative  work — the  struggle  with  the  popedom 
— we  might  almost  say  that  other  nations  committed  to 
England  the  task  by  which  they  were  all  to  profit.  An 
unenlightened  piety  may  perhaps  look  upon  the  relations  of 
the  court  of  London  with  the  court  of  Rome,  at  the  period 
of  the  Reformation,  as  void  of  interest  to  the  faith ;  but 
history  will  not  think  the  same.  It  has  been  too  often  for- 
gotten that  the  main  point  in  this  contest  was  not  the 
divorce  (which  was  only  the  occasion),  but  the  contest  itself 
and  its  important  consequences.  The  divorce  of  Henry 
Tudor  and  Catherine  of  Aragon  is  a  secondary  event ;  but 
the  divorce  of  England  and  the  popedom  is  a  primary  event, 
one  of  the  great  evolutions  of  history,  a  creative  act  (so  to 
speak)  which  still  exercises  a  normal  influence  over  the  des- 
tinies of  mankind.  And  accordingly  everything  connected 
with  it  is  full  of  instruction  for  us.  Already  a  great  num- 
ber of  pious  men  had  attached  themselves  to  the  authority 
of  God ;  but  the  king,  and  with  him  that  part  of  the  nation, 
strangers  to  the  evangelical  faith,  clung  to  Rome,  which 
Henry  had  so  valiantly  defended.  The  word  of  God  had 
spiritually  separated  England  from  the  papacy;  the  great 
matter  separated  it  materially.  There  is  a  close  relationship 
between  these  two  divorces,  which  gives  extreme  import- 
ance to  the  process  between  Henry  and  Catherine.  When 
a  great  revolution  is  to  be  effected  in  the  bosom  of  a  people 
(we  have  the  Reformation  particularly  in  view),  God  in- 
structs the  minority  by  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  the  majority 


368  ANNE'S  HESITATION. 

by  the  dispensations  of  the  divine  government.  Facts 
undertake  to  push  forward  those  whom  the  more  spiritual 
voice  of  the  word  leaves  behind.  England,  profiting  by  this 
great  teaching  of  facts, 'has  thought  it  her  duty  ever  since 
to  avoid  all  contact  with  a  power  that  had  deceived  her; 
she  has  thought  that  popery  could  not  have  the  dominion 
over  a  people  without  infringing  on  its  vitality,  and  that  it 
was  only  by  emancipating  themselves  from  this  priestly 
dictatorship  that  modern  nations  could  advance  safely  in 
the  paths  of  liberty,  order,  and  greatness. 

For  more  than  a  year,  as  Henry's  complaints  testify, 
Anne  continued  deaf  to  his  homage.  The  despairing  king 
saw  that  he  must  set  other  springs  to  work,  and  taking 
Lord  Rochford  aside,  he  unfolded  his  plans  to  him.  The 
ambitious  father  promised  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  influence 
his  daughter.  "  The  divorce  is  a  settled  thing,"  he  said  to 
her ;  "  you  have  no  control  over  it.  The  only  question  is, 
whether  it  shall  be  you  or  another  who  -shall  give  an  heir 
to  the  crown.  Bear  in  mind  that  terrible  revolutions 
threaten  England  if  the  king  has  no  son."  Thus  did 
everything  combine  to  weaken  Anne's  resolution.  The 
voice  of  her  father,  the  interests  of  her  country,  the  king's 
love,  and  doubtless  some  secret  ambition,  influenced  her  to 
grasp  the  proffered  sceptre.  These  thoughts  haunted  her 
in  society,  in  solitude,  and  even  in  her  dreams.  At  one 
time  she  imagined  herself  on  the  throne,  distributing  to  the 
people  her  charities  and  the  word  of  God ;  at  another,  in 
some  obscure  exile,  leading  a  useless  life,  in  tears  and  igno- 
miny. When,  in  the  sports  of  her  imagination,  the  crown 
of  England  appeared  all  glittering  before  her,  she  at  first 
rejected  it;  but  afterwards  that  regal  ornament  seemed  so 
beautiful,  and  the  power  it  conferred  so  enviable,  that  she 
repelled  it  less  energetically.  Anne  still  refused,  however, 
to  give  the  so  ardently  solicited  assent. 

Henry,  vexed  by  her  hesitation,  wrote  to  her  frequently, 
and  almost  always  in  French.  As  the  court  of  Rome 
makes  use  of  these  letters,  which  are  kept  in  the  Vatican, 
to  abuse  the  Reformation,  we  think  it  our  duty  to  quote 
them.  The  theft  committed  by  a  cardinal  has  preserved 


UEXRY'S  FIRST  LETTER.  369 

them  for  us ;  and  we  shall  see  that,  far  from  supporting  the 
calumnies  that  have  been  spread  abroad,  they  tend,  on  the 
contrary,  to  refute  them.  We  are  far  from  approving  their 
contents  as  a  whole;  but  we  cannot  deny  to  the  young 
lady,  to  whom  they  are  addressed  the  possession  of  noble 
and  generous  sentiments. 

Henry,  unable  to  support  the  anguish  caused  by  Anne's 
refusal,  wrote  to  her,  as  it  is  generally  supposed,  in  May 
1528  :* 

"  By  revolving  in  my  mind  the  contents  of  your  last  let- 
ters, I  have  put  myself  into  great  agony,  not  knowing  how 
to  interpret  them,  whether  to  my  disadvantage,  as  I  under- 
stand some  passages,  or  not,  as  I  conclude  from  others.  I 
beseech  you  earnestly  to  let  me  know  your  real  mind  as  to 
the  love  between  us  two.  It  is  needful  for  me  to  obtain  this 
answer  of  you,  having  been  for  a  whole  year  wounded 
with  the  dart  of  .love,  and  not  yet  assured  whether  I  shall 
succeed  in  finding  a  place  in  your  heart  and  affection.  This 
uncertainty  has  hindered  me  of  late  from  declaring  you  my 
mistress,  lest  it  should  prove  that  you  only  entertain  for  me 
an  ordinary  regard.  But  if  you  please  to  do  the  duty  of  a 
true  and  loyal  mistress,  I  promise  you  that  not  only  the 
name  shall  be  given  to  you,  but  also  that  I  will  take  you  for 
my  mistress,  casting  off  all  others  that  are  in  competition 
with  you,  out  of  my  thoughts  and  affection,  and  serving  you 
only.  I  beg  you  to  give  an  entire  answer  to  this  my  rude 
letter,  that  I  may  know  on  what  and  how  far  I  may  depend. 
But  if  it  does  not  please  you  to  answer  me  in  writing,  let 
me  know  some  place  where  I  may  have  it  by  word  of  mouth, 
and  I  will  go  thither  with  all  my  heart.  No  more  for  fear  of 
tiring  you.  Written  by  the  hand  of  him  who  would  willingly 
remain  yours,  "  H.  REX." 

Such  were  the  affectionate,  and  we  may  add  (if  we  think 
of  the  time  and  the  man)  the  respectful  terms  employed  by 

•  Vatican  Letters.  Pamphleteer,  No.  43,  p.  114.  The  date  in  the 
text  is  that  assigned  by  the  editor ;  we  are  inclined  to  place  it  somewhat 
earlier. 

Q2 


370  HENRY  8  SECOND  LETTER. 

Henry  in  writing  to  Anne  Boleyn.  The  latter,  without 
making  any  promises,  betrayed  some  little  affection  for  the 
king,  and  added  to  her  reply  an  emblematical  jewel,  repre- 
senting a  "  solitary  damsel  in  a  boat  tossed  by  the  tempest," 
wishing  thus  to  make  the  prince  understand  the  dangers  to 
which  his  love  exposed  her.  Henry  was  ravished,  and  im- 
mediately replied : — 

"  For  a  present  so  valuable,  that  nothing  could  be  more 
(considering  the  whole  of  it),  I  return  you  my  most  hearty 
thanks,  not  only  on  account  of  the  costly  diamond,  and  the 
ship  in  which  the  solitary  damsel  is  tossed  about,  but  chiefly 
for  the  fine  interpretation,  and  the  too  humble  submission 
which  your  goodness  hath  made  to  me.  Your  favour  I  will 
always  seek  to  preserve,  and  this  is  my  firm  intention  and 
hope,  according  to  the  matter,  aut  illic  aut  nullibi. 

"  The  demonstrations  of  your  affections  are  such,  the  fine 
thoughts  of  your  letter  so  cordially  expressed,  that  they 
oblige  me  for  ever  to  honour,  love,  and  serve  you  sincerely. 
I  beseech  you  to  continue  in  the  same  firm  and  constant  pur- 
pose, and  assuring  you  that,  on  my  part,  I  will  not  only 
make  you  a  suitable  return,  but  outdo  you,  so  great  is  the 
loyalty  of  the  heart  that  desires  to  please  you.  I  desire, 
also,  that  if,  at  any  time  before  this,  I  have  in  any  way 
offended  you,  that  you  would  give  me  the  same  absolution 
that  you  ask,  assuring  you,  that  hereafter  my  heart  shall  be 
dedicated  to  you  alone.  I  wish  my  person  were  so  too.  God 
can  do  it,  if  he  pleases,  to  whom  I  pray  once  a-day  for  that 
end,  hoping  that  at  length  my  prayers  will  be  heard.  I  wish 
the  time  may  be  short,  but  I  shall  think  it  long  till  we  see 
one  another.  Written  by  the  hand  of  that  secretary,  who  in 
heart,  body,  and  will,  is 

"  Your  loyal  and  most  faithful  Servant, 

«  H.  T.  REX."* 

*  Pamphleteer,  No.  43,  p.  1 15.  After  the  signature  comes  the  f&llowing 
doyice : 

(V) 

Nulle  autre  que  \  A  B  ne  cherche  H.T. 


HENRY'S  THIRD  AND  FOURTH1  LETTERS.  371 

Henry  was  a  passionate  lover,  and  history  is  not  called 
upon  to  vindicate  that  cruel  prince ;  but  in  the  preceding 
letter  we  cannot  discover  the  language  of  a  seducer.  It  is 
impossible  to  imagine  the  king  praying  to  God  once  a-day 
for  anything  but  a  lawful  union.  These  daily  prayers  seem 
to  present  the  matter  in  a  different  light  from  that  which 
Romanist  writers  have  imagined. 

Henry  thought  himself  more  advanced  than  he  really  was. 
Anne  then  shrank  back ;  embarrassed  by  the  position  she 
held  at  court,  she  begged  for  one  less  elevated.  The  king 
submitted,  although  very  vexed  at  first : 


"  Nevertheless  that  it  belongeth  not  to  a  gentleman,"  he 
wrote  to  her,  "  to  put  his  mistress  in  the  situation  of  a  ser- 
vant, yet,  by  following  your  wishes,  I  would  willingly  con- 
cede it,  if  by  that  means  you  are  less  uncomfortable  in  the 
place  you  shall  choose  than  in  that  where  you  have  been 
placed  by  me.  I  thank  you  most  cordially  that  you  are 
pleased  still  to  bear  me  in  your  remembrance. 

"  H.  T." 

Anne,  having  retired  in  May  to  Hever  castle,  her  father's 
residence,  the  king  wrote  to  her  as  follows : — 

"  My  Mistress  and  my  Friend, 

"  My  heart  and  I  surrender  ourselves  into  your  hands,  and 
we  supplicate  to  be  commended  to  your  good  graces,  and 
that  by  absence  your  affections  may  not  be  diminished  to 
us.  For  that  would  be  to  augment  our  pain,  which  would 
be  a  great  pity,  since  absence  gives  enough,  and  more  than 
I  ever  thought  could  be  felt.  This  brings  to  my  mind  a  fact 
in  astronomy,  which  is,  that  the  longer  the  days  are,  the 
farther  oft*  is  the  sun,  and  yet  the  more  scorching  is  his  heat. 
Thus  is  it  with  our  love ;  absence  has  placed  distance  be- 
tween us,  nevertheless  fervour  increases,  at  least  on  my  part. 
I  hope  the  same  from  you,  assuring  you  that  in  my  case 
the  anguish  of  absence  is  so  great  that  it  would  be  in- 
tolerable were  it  not  for  the  firm  hope  I  have  of  your  indis- 


372  ANNE  GIVES  HER  CONSENT. 

soluble  affection  towards  me.  In  order  to  remind  you  of  it, 
and  because  I  cannot  in  person  be  in  your  presence,  I  send 
you  the  thing  which  comes  nearest  that  is  possible,  that  is 
to  say,  my  picture,  and  the  whole  device,  which  you  already 
know  of,*  set  in  bracelets ;  wishing  myself  in  their  place 
when  it  pleases  you.  This  is  from  the  hand  of 
"  Your  Servant  and  Friend, 

"  H.  T.  REX." 

Pressed  by  her  father,  her  uncles,  and  by  Henry,  Anne's 
firmness  was  shaken.  That  crown,  rejected  by  Renee  and 
by  Margaret,  dazzled  the  young  Englishwoman ;  every  day 
she  found  some  new  charm  in  it ;  and  gradually  familiariz- 
ing herself  with  her  new  future,  she  said  at  last :  "  If  the 
king  becomes  free,  I  shall  be  willing  to  marry  him."  This 
was  a  great  fault ;  but  Henry  was  at  the  height  of  joy. 

The  courtiers  watched  with  observant  eyes  these  develop- 
ments of  the  king's  affection,  and  were  already  preparing  the 
homage  which  they  proposed  to  lay  at  Anne  Boleyn's  feet. 
But  there  was  one  man  at  court  whom  Henry's  resolution 
filled  with  sorrow ;  this  was  Wolsey.  He  had  been  the  first 
to  suggest  to  the  king  the  idea  of  separating  from  Catherine; 
but  if  Anne  is  to  succeed  her,  there  must  be  no  divorce.  He 
had  first  alienated  Catherine's  party ;  he  was  now  going  to 
irritate  that  of  the  Boleyns;  accordingly  he  began  to  fear 
that  whatever  might  be  the  issue  of  this  affair,  it  would  cause 
his  ruin.  He  took  frequent  walks  in  his  park  at  Hampton 
Court,  accompanied  by  the  French  ambassador,  the  confidant 
of  his  sorrows :  "  I  would  willingly  lose  one  of  my  fingers," 
he  said,  "  if  I  could  only  have  two  hours'  conversation  with 
the  king  of  France."  At  another  time,  fancying  all  England 
was  pursuing  him,  he  said  with  alarm,  "  The  king  my  mas- 
ter and  all  his  subjects  will  cry  murder  against  me ;  they 
will  fall  upon  me  more  fiercely  than  on  a  Turk,  and  all  Chris- 
tendom will  rise  against  me!"  The  next  day  Wolsey,  to 
gain  the  French  ambassador,  gave  him  a  long  history  of 
what  he  had  done  for  France  against  the  wishes  of  all  Eng- 

*  Doubtless  the  out  illic  aut  nullibi      For  this  letter  see  the  Pam- 
phleteer, No.  42,  p.  346. 


WOLSEVs  GRIEF.  373 

land :  "  I  need  much  dexterity  in  my  afUirs,"  he  added,  "  and 
must  use  a  terrible  alchymy"*  But  alchymy  could  not  save 
him.  Rarely  has  so  much  anguish  been  veiled  beneath  such 
grandeur.  Du  Bellay  was  moved  with  pity  at  the  sight  of 
the  unhappy  man's  sufferings.  "  When  he  gives  way,"  he 
wrote  to  Montmorency,  "  it  lasts  a  day  together ; — he  is  con- 
tinually sighing. — You  have  never  seen  a  man  in  such  anguish 
of  mind."f 

In  truth  Wolsey's  reason  was  tottering.  That  fatal  idea 
of  the  divorce  was  the  cause  of  all  his  woes,  and  to  be  able 
to  recall  it,  he  would  have  given,  not  a  finger  only,  but  an 
arm,  and  perhaps  more.  It  was  too  late ;  Henry  had  started 
his  car  down  the  steep,  and  whoever  attempted  to  stop  it 
would  have  been  crushed  beneath  its  wheels.  However,  the 
cardinal  tried  to  obtain  something.  Francis  I.  had  inter- 
cepted a  letter  from  Charles  V.  in  which  the  emperor  spoke 
of  the  divorce  as  likely  to  raise  the  English  nation  in  revolt 
Wolsey  caused  this  letter  to  be  read  to  the  king,  in  the  hope 
that  it  would  excite  his  serious  apprehensions ;  but  Henry 
only/roiened,  and  Du  Bellay,  to  whom  the  monarch  ascribed 
the  report  on  these  troubles  foreboded  by  Charles,  received 
"  a  gentle  lash."  J:  This  was  the  sole  result  of  the  manoeuvre. 

Wolsey  now  resolved  to  broach  this  important  subject 
in  a  straightforward  manner.  The  step  might  prove  his  ruin; 
but  if  he  succeeded  he  was  &aved  and  the  popedom  with  him. 
Accordingly,  one  day  (shortly  before  the  sweating  sickness 
broke  out,  says  Du  Bellay,  probably  in  June  1528)  Wolsey 
openly  prayed  the  king  to  renounce  his  design ;  his  own  re- 
putation, he  told  him,  the  prosperity  of  England,  the  peace 
of  Europe,  the  safety  of  the  church, — all  required  it ;  besides 
the  pope  would  never  grant  the  divorce.  While  the  cardinal 
was  speaking,  Henry's  face  grew  black ;  and  before  he  had 
concluded  the  king's  anger  broke  out.  "  The  king  used 
terrible  words,"  said  Du  Bellay.  He  would  have  given  a 
thousand  Wolseys  for  one  Anne  Boleyn.  "  No  other  than 

*  Une  terrible  Alquemie.    Le  Grand,  Preures,  p.  157. 
t  26th  April,  1528.    Ibid.  p.  93. 

*  Qitelque  petit  coup  de  fouet.    24th  May,  1528.    Da  Bellay  to  Mont- 
morency.    Le  Graid,  Preuves,  p.  102. 


374  HE  COURTS  ANNE  BOLEYN. 

God  shall  take  her  from  me "  was  his  most  decided  reso- 
lution. 

"Wolsey,  now  no  longer  doubting  of  his  disgrace,  began  to 
take  his  measures  accordingly.  He  commenced  building  in 
several  places,  in  order  to  win  the  affections  of  the  common 
people ;  he  took  great  care  of  his  bishoprics,  in  order  that  they 
might  ensure  him  an  easy  retreat;  he  was  affable  to  the 
courtiers ;  and  thus  covered  the  earth  with  flowers  to  deaden 
his  fall.  Then  he  would  sigh  as  if  he  were  disgusted  with 
honours,  and  would  celebrate  the  charms  of  solitude.*  He 
did  more  than  this.  Seeing  plainly  that  the  best  way  of 
recovering  the  kiug's  favour  would  be  to  conciliate  Anne 
Boleyn,  he  made  her  the  most  handsome  presents,-}-  and 
assured  her  that  all  his  efforts  would  nqw  be  directed  to  raise 
her  to  the  throne  of  England.  Anne,  believing  these  declar- 
ations, replied,  that  she  would  help  him  in  her  turn,  "  As 
long  as  any  breath  was  in  her  body."  J  Even  Henry  had  no 
doubt  that  the  cardinal  had  profited  by  his  lesson. 

Thus  were  all  parties  restless  and  uneasy — Henry  desiring 
to  marry  Lady  Anne,  the  courtiers  to  get  rid  of  Wolsey,  and 
the  latter  to  remain  in  power — when  a  serious  event  appeared 
to  put  every  one  in  harmony  with  his  neighbour.  About 
the  middle  of  June,  the  terrible  sweating  sickness  (sudor 
anglicus]  broke  out  in  England.  The  citizens  of  London, 
"  thick  as  flies,"  said  Du  Bellay,§  suddenly  feeling  pains  in 
the  head  and  heart,  rushed  from  the  streets  or  shops  to  their 
chambers,  began  to  sweat,  and  took  to  their  beds.  The  dis- 
ease made  frightful  and  rapid  progress,  a  burning  heat 
pteyed  on  their  limbs;  if  they  chanced  to  uncover  them- 
selves, the  perspiration  ceased,  delirium  came  on,  and  in  four 
hours  the  victim  was  dead  and  "  stiff  as  a  wall,"  ||  says  the 
French  ambassador.  Every  family  was  in  mourning.  Sir 
Thomas  More^  kneeling  by  his  daughter's  bedside,  burst  into 
tears,  and  called  upon  God  to  save  his  beloved  Margaret.^] 

*  20th  August  1528.  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency  Le  Grand,  Preuves, 
p.  165.  f  Pamphleteer,  No.  43,  p.  150.  J  Ibid. 

§  Dru  comme  mouches.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p    38. 
||  Raide  comme  un  pan  de  mur.    Ibid. 
^  More's  Life,  p.  136. 


THE  SWEATING  SICKNESS.  375 

Wolsey,  who  was  at  Hampton  Court,  suspecting  nothing 
amiss,  arrived  in  London  as  usual  to  preside  in  the  Court  of 
Chancery;  but  he  ordered  his  horses  to  be  saddled  again 
immediately  and  rode  back.  In  four  days,  2000  persons 
died  in  London. 

The  court  was  at  first  safe  from  the  contagion ;  but  on  the 
fourth  day  one  of  Anne  Boleyn's  ladies  was  attacked ;  it  was 
as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  fallen  on  the  palace.  The  king  re- 
moved with  all  haste,  and  staid  at  a  place  twelve  miles  off, 
for  he  was  not  prepared  to  die.  He  ordered  Anne  to  return 
to  her  father,  invited  the  queen  to  join  him,  and  took  up  his 
residence  at  Waltham.  His  real  conscience  awoke  only  in 
the  presence  of  death.  Four  of  his  attendants  and  a  friar, 
Anne's  confessor,  as  it  would  appear,*  falling  ill,  the  king 
departed  for  Hunsdon.  He  had  been  there  two  days  only 
when  Powis,  Carew,  Carton,  and  others  of  his  court,  were 
carried  off  in  two  or  three  hours.  Henry  had  met  an  enemy 
whom  he  could  not  vanquish.  He  quitted  the  place  attacked 
by  the  disease ;  he  removed  to  another  quarter ;  and  when 
the  sickness  laid  hold  of  any  of  his  attendants  in  his  new 
retreat,  he  again  left  that  for  a  new  asylum.  Terror  froze 
his  blood ;  he  wandered  about  pursued  by  that  terrible  scythe 
whose  sweep  might  perhaps  reach  him ;  he  cut  off  all  com- 
munication, even  with  his  servants ;  shut  himself  up  in  a 
room  at  the  top  of  an  isolated  tower;  ate  all  alone,  and 
would  see  no  one  but  his  physician  ;f  he  prayed,  fasted,  con- 
fessed, became  reconciled  with  the  queen;  took  the  sacra- 
ment every  Sunday  and  feast-day ;  received  his  Maker,  $  to 
use  the  words  of  a  gentleman  of  his  chamber ;  and  the  queen 
and  Wolsey  did  the  same.  Nor  was  that  all :  his  councillor, 
Sir  Brian  Tuke,  was  sick  in  Essex ;  but  that  mattered  not ; 
the  king  ordered  him  to  come  to  him,  even  in  his  litter ;  and 
on  the  20th  of  June,  Henry  after  hearing  three  masses  (he 
had  never  done  so  much  before  in  one  day)  said  to  Tuke : 

*  Votre  pere  maitre  Jesonere  est  tombd  malade.  Henry  to  Anne. 
Pamphleteer,  No.  42,  p.  347. 

t  With  his  physician  in  a  chamber  within  a  tower  to  sup  apart.  State 
Papers,  i.  p.  296. 

J  Ibid.  p.  290 


876  HENRY'S  TERROR — HIS  LETTER  TO  ANNE. 

"  I  want  you  to  write  my  will.'"  He  was  not  the  only  one 
who  took  that  precaution.  "  There  were  a  hundred  thousand 
made,"  says  Du  Bellay. 

During  this  time,  Anne  in  her  retirement  at  Hever  was 
calm  and  collected;  she  prayed  much,  particularly  for  the 
king  and  for  Wolsey.*  But  Henry,  far  less  submissive,  was 
very  anxious.  "  The  uneasiness  my  doubts  about  your 
health  gave  me,"  he  wrote  to  her,  "  disturbed  and  frightened 
me  exceedingly ;  but  now,  since  you  have  as  yet  felt  nothing, 

I  hope  it  is  with  you  as  it  is  with  us I  beg  you,  my 

entirely  beloved,  not  to  frighten  yourself,  or  be  too  uneasy  at 
our  absence,  for  wherever  I  am,  I  am  yours.  And  yet  we 
must  sometimes  submit  to  our  misfortunes,  for  whoever  will 
struggle  against  fate,  is  generally  but  so  much  the  farther 
from  gaining  his  end.  Wherefore,  comfort  yourself  and 
take  courage,  and  make  this  misfortune  as  easy  to  you  as 
you  can."-]- 

As  he  received  no  news,  Henry's  uneasiness  increased ;  he 
sent  to  Anne  a  messenger  and  a  letter :  "  To  acquit  myself 
of  the  duty  of  a  true  servant,  I  send  you  this  letter,  beseech- 
ing you  to  apprize  me  of  your  welfare,  whiqh  I  pray  may 
continue  as  long  as  I  desire  mine  own." 

Henry's  fears  were  well  founded ;  the  malady  became  more 
severe ;  in  four  hours  eighteen  persons  died  at  the  archbishop 
of  Canterbury's ;  Anne  Boleyn  herself  and  her  brother  also 
caught  the  infection.  The  king  was  exceedingly  agitated ; 
Anne  alone  appeared  calm ;  the  strength  of  her  character 
raised  her  above  exaggerated  fears ;  but  her  enemies  ascribed 
her  calmness  to  other  motives.  "  Her  ambition  is  stronger 
than  death,"  they  said.  "  The  king,  queen,  and  cardinal 

tremble  for  their  lives,  but  she she  would  die  content  if 

she  died  a  queen."  Henry  once  more  changed  his  residence. 
All  the  gentlemen  of  his  privy-chamber  were  attacked,  with 
one  exception  ;  "  he  remained  alone,  keeping  himself  apart," 
says  Du  Bellay,  and  confessed  every  day.  He  wrote  again 
to  Anne,  sending  her  his  physician,  Dr  Butts  :  J  "  The  most 

*  I  thank  our  Lord  that  them  that  I  desired  and  prayed  for  are  escaped, 
and  that  is  the  king's  grace  and  you.  Anne  to  Wolsey.  Pamphleteer 
No.  43,  p.  150.  t  Ibid.  N  ».  42,  p.  347.  J  Ibid.  No.  43,  p.  120. 


WOLSEY'S  TEKROHS.  377 

displeasing  news  that  could  occur  came  to  me  suddenly  at 
night.  On  three  accounts  I  must  lament  it.  One,  to  hear 
of  the  illness  of  my  mistress,  whom  I  esteem  more  than  all 
the  world,  and  whose  health  I  desire  as  I  do  my  own.  I 
would  willingly  bear  half  of  what  you  suffer  to  cure  you. 
The  second,  from  the  fear  that  I  shall  have  to  endure  my 
wearisome  absence  much  longer,  which  has  hitherto  given 
me  all  the  vexation  that  was  possible;  and  when  gloomy 
thoughts  fill  my  mind,  then  I  pray  God  to  remove  far  from 
me  such  troublesome  and  rebellious  ideas.  The  third,  be- 
cause my  physician,  in  whom  I  have  most  confidence,  is 
absent.  Yet,  from  the  want  of  him,  I  send  you  my  second, 
and  hope  that  he  will  soon  make  you  well.  J  shall  then 
love  him  more  than  ever.  I  beseech  you  to  be  guided  by 
his  advice  in  your  illness.  By  your  doing  this,  I  hope  soon 
to  see  you  again,  which  will  be  to  me  a  greater  comfort  than 
all  the  precious  jewels  in  the  world." 

The  pestilence  soon  broke  out  with  more  violence  around 
Henry ;  he  fled  in  alarm  to  Hatfield,  taking  with  him  only 
the  gentlemen  of  his  chamber ;  he  next  quitted  this  place 
for  Tittenhanger,  a  house  belonging  to  Wolsey,  whence  he 
commanded  general  processions  throughout  the  kingdom  in 
order  to  avert  this  scourge  of  God.*  At  the  same  time  he 
wrote  to  Wolsey :  "  As  soon  as  any  one  falls  ill  in  the  place 
where  you  are,  fly  to  another ;  and  go  thus  from  place  to 
place."  The  poor  cardinal  was  still  more  alarmed  than 
Henry.  As  soon  as  he  felt  the  slightest  perspiration,  he 
fancied  himself  a  dead  man.  "  I  entreat  your  highness,"  he 
wrote  trembling  to  the  king  on  the  5th  of  July,  "  to  show 
yourself  full  of  pity  for  my  soul ;  these  are  perhaps  the  last 

words  I  shall  address  to  you The  whole  world  will  see 

by  my  last  testament  that  you  have  not  bestowed  your 
favour  upon  an  ungrateful  man."  The  king,  perceiving  that 
"VVoIscy's  mind  was  affected,  bade  him  "  put  apart  fear  and 
fantasies," •{•  and  wear  a  cheerful  humour  in  the  midst  of 
death. 

.  At  last  the  sickness  began  to  diminish,  and  immediately 
the  desire  to  see  Anne  revived  in  Henry's  bosom.  On  the 

•  State  Papers,  i.  p.  308.  f  Ibid.?.  314. 

VOL.  V.  17 


378     THE  LEGATE'S  DELAY — HISSIMLLATION  AT  COURT. 

18th  of  August  she  re  -appeared  at  court,  and  all  the  king'? 
thoughts  were  now  bent  on  the  divorce. 

But  this  business  seemed  to  proceed  in  inverse  ratio  to  his 
desires.  There  was  no  news  of  Campeggio ;  was  he  lost  in 
the  Alps  or  at  sea?  Did  his  gout  detain  him  in  some  vil- 
lage, or  was  the  announcement  of  his  departure  only  a  feint? 
Anne  Boleyn  herself  was  uneasy,  for  she  attached  great  im- 
portance to  Campeggio's  coming.  If  the  church  annulled 
the  king's  first  marriage,  Anne,  seeing  the  principal  obstacle 
removed,  thought  she  might  accept  Henry's  hand.  She 
therefore  wrote  to  Wolsey :  "  I  long  to  hear  from  you  news 
of  the  legate,  for  I  do  hope  (an'  they  come  from  you)  they 
shall  be  very  good."  The  king  added  in  a  postscript :  "  The 
not  hearing  of  the  legate's  arrival  in  France  causelh  us 
somewhat  to  muse.  Notwithstanding  we  trust  by  your 
diligence  and  vigilancy  (with  the  assistance  of  Almighty 
God)  shortly  to  be  eased  out  of  that  trouble."* 

But  still  there  was  no  news.  While  waiting  for  the  long- 
desired  ambassador,  every  one  at  the  English  court  played 
his  part  as  well  as  he  could.  Anne,  whether  from  conscience, 
prudence,  or  modesty,  refused  the  honours  which  the  king 
would  have  showered  upon  her,  and  never  approached 
Catherine  but  with  marks  of  profound  respect.  "Wolsey  had 
the  look  of  desiring  the  divorce,  while  in  reality  he  dreaded 
it,  as  fated  to  cause  his  ruin  and  that  of  the  popedom. 
Henry  strove  to  conceal  the  motives  which  impelled  him  to 
separate  from  the  queen ;  to  the  bishops,  he  spoke  of  his 
conscience,  to  the  nobility  of  an  heir,  and  to  all  of  the  sad 
obligation  which  compelled  him  to  put  away  so  justly  be- 
loved a  princess.  In  the  meanwhile,  he  seemed  to  live  on 
the  best  terms  with  her,  from  what  Du  Bellay  says.-j-  But 
Catherine  was  the  one  who  best  dissembled  her  sentiments; 
she  lived  with  the  king  as  during  their  happiest  days,  treated 
Anne  with  every  kindness,  adopted  an  elegant  costume, 
encouraged  music  and  dancing  in  her  apartments,  often  ap- 
peared in  public,  and  seemed  desirous  ?f  captivating  by  her 

*  Pamphleteer,  No.  48,  p.  149. 

t  16th  October  1.528.  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.  Le  Grand,  Preuvea, 
p.  170. 


COVERDALE  AND  INSPIRATION.  379 

gracious  smiles  the  good- will  of  England.  This  was  a 
mournful  comedy,  destined  to  end  in  tragedy  full  of  tears 
and  agony. 


CHAPTER  H. 

Corerdale  and  Inspiration — He  undertakes  to  translate  the  Scriptures — • 
His  Joy  and  Spiritual  Songs — Tyball  and  the  Laymen— Coverdalo 
preaches  at  Bumpstead— Revival  at  Colchester — Incomplete  Societies 
and  the  New  Testament  —  Persecution  —  Monmouth  arrested  and 
released. 

• 

WHILE  these  scenes  were  acting  in  the  royal  palaces,  far  dif- 
ferent discussions  were  going  on  among  the  people.  After 
having  dwelt  for  some  time  on  the  agitations  of  the  court, 
we  gladly  return  to  the  lowly  disciples  of  the  divine  word. 
The  Reformation  of  England  (and  this  is  its  characteristic) 
brings  before  us  by  turns  the  king  upon  his  throne,  and  the 
laborious  artisan  in  his  humble  cottage ;  and  between  these 
two  extremes  we  meet  with  the  doctor  in  his  college,  and  the 
priest  in  his  pulpit. 

Among  the  young  men  trained  at  Cambridge  under 
Barnes's  instruction,  and  who  had  aided  him  at  the  time  of 
his  trial,  was  Miles  Coverdale,  afterwards  bishop  of  Exeter, 
a  man  distinguished  by  his  zeal  for  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Some  time  after  the  prior's  fall,  on  Easter  Eve, 
1527,  Coverdale  and  Cromwell  met  at  the  house  of  Sir 
Thomas  More,  when  the  former  exhorted  the  Cambridge 
student  to  apply  himself  to  the  study  of  sacred  learning.* 
The  lapse  of  his  unhappy  master  had  alarmed  Coverdale, 
and  he  felt  the  necessity  of  withdrawing  from  that  outward 
activity  which  had  proved  so  fatal  to  Barnes.  He  therefore 
turned  to  the  Scriptures,  read  them  again  and  again,  and 
perceived,  like  Tyndale,  that  the  reformation  of  the  church 
must  be  effected  by  the  word  of  God.  The  inspiration  of 

*  Coverdale's  Remain*  (Parker  Society),  p.  490.  The  au- 
thority for  this  statement  is  a  letter  from  Coverdale  to  Crom- 
well, which  the  editor  of  the  ''Remains"  assigns  to  the  year 
1527.  I  am  inclined  to  think  it  was  written  in  1528;  but  any 
way  there  is  a  difficulty  with  the  date. 


380  MILES  COVKRDALE. 

that  word,  the  only  foundation  of  its  sovereign  authority, 
had  struck  Coverdale.  "  Wherever  the  Scripture  is  known 
it  reformeth  all  things.  And  why?  Because  it  is  given  by 
the  inspiration  of  God."*  This  fundamental  principle  of  the 
Reformation  in  England  must,  in  every  age,  be  that  of  the 
church. 

Coverdale  found  happiness  in  his  studies :  "  Now,"  he  said, 
"  I  begin  to  taste  of  Holy  Scriptures !  Now,  honour  be  to 
God !  I  am  set  to  the  most  sweet  smell  of  holy  letters."-{- 
lie  did  not  stop  there,  but  thought  it  his  duty  to  attempt  in 
England  the  work  which  Tyndale  was  prosecuting  in  Ger- 
many. The  Bible  was  so  important  in  the  eyes  of  these 
Christians,  that  two  translations  were  undertaken  simul- 
taneously. "  Why  should  other  nations,"  said  Coverdale, 
"  be  more  plenteously  provided  for  with  the  Scriptures  in 
their  mother-tongue  than  we?"| — "  Beware  of  translating 
the  Bible !"  exclaimed  the  partisans  of  the  schoolmen ;  "  your 
labour  will  only  make  divisions  in  the  faith  and  in  the  peo- 
ple of  God."§ — "  God  has  now  given  his  church,"  replied 
Coverdale,  "  the  gifts  of  translating  and  of  printing;  we 
must  improve  them."  And  if  any  friends  spoke  of  Tyndale's 
translation,  he  answered :  "  Do  not  you  know  that  when 
many  are  starting  together,  every  one  doth  his  best  to  be 
nighest  the  mark?"|| — "  But  Scripture  ought  to  exist  in 
Latin  only,"  objected  the  priests. — "  No,"  replied  Coverdale 
again,  "  the  Holy  Ghost  is  as  much  the  author  of  it  in  the 

Hebrew,  Greek,  French,  Dutch,  and  English,  as  in  Latin 

The  word  of  God  is  of  like  authority,  in  what  language  so- 
ever the  Holy  Ghost  speaketh  it."  ^[  This  does  not  mean 
that  translations  of  Holy  Scripture  are  inspired,  but  that  the 
word  of  God,  faithfully  translated,  always  possesses  a  divino 
authority. 

Coverdale  determined  therefore  to  translate  the  Bible,  and, 
to  procure  the  necessary  books,  he  wrote  to  Cromwell,  who, 
during  his  travels,  had  made  a  collection  of  these  precious 
writings.  "  Nothing  in  the  world  I  desire  but  books,"  he 
wrote ;  "  like  Jacob,  you  have  drunk  of  the  dew  of  heaven 

*  Coverdale's  Remains,  p.  10  t  Ibid.  p.  490. 

$  Ibid.  p.  12  §  Ibid.  ||  Ibid.  p.  14.        •ff  Ibid.  p.  26. 


DESIRES  TO  TRANSLATE  THE  BIBLE.  381 

I  ask  to  drink  of  your  waters."*  Cromwell  did  not  refuse 
Coverdale  his  treasures.  "  Since  the  Holy  Ghost  moves  you 
to  bear  the  cost  of  this  work,"  exclaimed  the  latter,  "  God 
gives  me  boldness  to  labour  in  the  same."f  He  commenced 
without  delay,  saying :  "  Whosoever  believeth  not  the  Scrip- 
ture, believeth  not  Christ;  and  whoso  refuseth  it,  refuseth 
God  also."J  Such  were  the  foundations  of  the  reformed 
church  in  England. 

Coverdale  did  not  undertake  to  translate  the  Scriptures  as 
a  mere  literary  task:  the  Spirit  which  had  inspired  him 
spoke  to  his  heart :  and  tasting  their  life-giving  promises,  he 
expressed  his  happiness  in  pious  songs : — 

Be  glad  now,  all  ye  christen  men, 

And  let  us  rejoyce  unfaynedly. 
The  kindnesse  cannot  be  written  with  penne, 

That  we  have  receaved  of  God's  mercy  ; 
Whose  love  towarde  us  hath  never  ende  : 
He  hath  done  for  us  as  a  frende  ; 

Now  let  us  thanke  him  hartely. 

These  lovynge  wordes  he  spake  to  me  : 

I  wyll  delyver  thy  soule  from  payne  ; 
I  am  desposed  to  do  for  thee, 

And  to  myne  owne  selfe  thee  to  retayne. 
Thou  shalt  be  with  me,  for  thou  art  myne ; 
And  I  with  thee,  for  I  am  thyne  ; 

Such  is  my  love,  I  can  not  layne. 

They  wyll  shed  out  my  precyous  bloude, 

And  take  away  my  lyfe  also  ; 
Which  1  wyll  suffre  all  for  thy  good  : 

Beleve  this  sure,  where  ever  thou  go. 
For  I  wijl  yet  ryse  up  agayne  ; 
Thy  synnes  I  beare,  though  it  be  payne, 

To  make  thee  safe  and  free  from  wo. 

Coverdale  did  not  remain  long  in  the  solitude  he  desirccL 
The  study  of  the  Bible,  which  had  attracted  him  to  it,  soon 
drew  him  out  of  it.  A  revival  was  going  on  in  Essex ;  John 
Tyball,  an  inhabitant  of  Bumpstead,  having  learnt  to  find  in 
Jesus  Christ  the  true  bread  from  heaven,  did  not  stop  there. 

*  De  tuo  ipso  torrente  rnaxime  potare  exopto.  Coverdale's  Remains, 
p.  491.  f  Ibid.  p.  10.  +  Ibid.  p.  19. 


382  TYBALL  AT  BUMPSTEAD. 

One  day  as  he  was  reading  the  first  epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
these  words :  "  eat  of  this  bread"  and  "  drink  of  this  cup" 
repeated  four  times  within  a  few  verses,  convinced  him  that 
there  was  no  transubstantiation.  "  A  priest  has  no  power 
to  create  the  body  of  the  Lord,"  said  he :  "  Christ  truly  i.r 
present  in  the  Eucharist,  but  he  is  there  only  fir  Mm  that 
believcth,  and  by  a  spiritual  presence  and  action  only."  Ty- 
ball,  disgusted  with  the  Romish  clergy  and  worship,  and 
convinced  that  Christians  are  called  to  a  universal  priest- 
hood, soon  thought  that  men  could  do  without  a  special 
ministry,  and  without  denying  the  offices  mentioned  in  Scrip- 
ture, as  some  Christians  have  done  since,  he  attached  no 
importance  to  them.  "  Priesthood  is  not  necessary,"*  he 
said :  "  every  layman  may  administer  the  sacraments  as  well 
as  a  priest."  The  minister  of  Bumpstead,  one  Richard 
Foxe,  and  next  a  greyfriar  of  Colchester  named  Meadow, 
were  successively  converted  by  Tyball's  energetic  preaching. 

Coverdale,  who  was  living  not  far  from  these  parts,  having 
heard  speak  of  this  religious  revival,  came  to  Bumpstead, 
and  went  into  the  pulpit  in  the  spring  of  1528,  to  pro- 
claim the  treasures  contained  in  Scripture.  Among  his 
hearers  was  an  Augustine  monk,  named  Topley,  who  was 
supplying  Foxe's  place  during  his  absence.  This  monk, 
while  staying  at  the  parsonage,  had  found  a  copy  of  Wick- 
liffe's  Wicket,  which  he  read  eagerly.  His  conscience  was 
wounded  by  it,  and  all  seemed  to  totter  about  him.f  He 
had  gone  to  church  full  of  doubt,  and  after  divine  service  he 
waited  upon  the  preacher,  exclaiming :  "  0  my  sins,  my  sins!" 
"  Confess  yourself  to  God,"  said  Coverdale,  "  and  not  to  a 
priest.  God  accepteth  the  confession  which  cometh  from  the 
heart,  and  blotteth  out  all  your  sins.":}:  The  monk  believed 
in  the  forgiveness  of  God,  and  became  a  zealous  evangelist 
for  the  surrounding  country. 

The  divine  word  had  hardly  lighted  one  torch,  before  that 
kindled  another.  At  Colchester,  in  the  same  county,  a 
worthy  man  named  Pykas,  had  received  a  copy  of  the  Epistles 

*  Strype,  Records,  i.  p.  51, 

+  I  felt  in  my  conscience  a  great  wavering.  Anderson's  Annals  of  thj 
Bible,  vol.  i.  p.  185.  J  Coverdale's  Remains,  p.  481. 


EMMTUALirY  OF  PYKAS.  383 

of  Saint  Paul  from  his  mother,  with  this  advice  "  My  son, 
live  according  to  these  writings,  and  not  according  To  the 
teaching  of  the  clergy."  Some  time  after,  Pykas  having 
bought -a  New  Testament,  and  "read  it  thoroughly  many 
times,"*  a  total  change  took  place  in  him.  "  We  must  be 
•baptized  by  the  Holy  Ghost,"  he  said,  and  these  words  passed 
like  a  breath  of  life  over  his  simple-minded  hearers.  One 
day,  Pykas  having  learnt  that  Bilney,  the  first  of  the  Cam- 
bridge doctors  who  had  known  the  power  of  God's  word, 
was  preaching  at  Ipswich,  he  proceeded  thither,  for  he  never 
refused  to  listen  to  a  priest,  when  that  priest  proclaimed  the 
truth.  "  0,  what  a  sermon!  how  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost!" 
exclaimed  Pykas. 

From  that  period  meetings  of  the  brothers  in  Christ  (for 
thus  they  were  called)  increased  in  number.  They  read  the 
New  Testament,  and  each  imparted  to  the  others  what  he 
had  received  for  the  instruction  of  all.  One  day  when  the 
twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Matthew  had  been  read,  Pykas, 
who  was  sometimes  wrong  in  the  spiritual  interpretation  of 
Scripture,  remarked :  "  When  the  Lord  declares  that  not  one 
stone  of  the  temple  shall  l>e  left  upon  another,  he  speaks  of 
those  haughty  priests  who  persecute  those  whom  they  call 
heretics,  and  who  pretend  to  be  the  temple  of  God.  God  will 
destroy  them  all."  After  protesting  against  the  priest,  he 
protested  against  the  host :  "  The  real  body  of  Jesus  Christ 
is  in  the  Word,"  he  said ;  "  God'  is  in  the  Word,  the  Word 
is  in  God.f  God  and  the  Word  cannot  be  separated.  Christ 
is  the  living  Word  that  nourishes  the  soul."  These  humble 
preachers  increased.  Even  women  knew  the  Epistles  and 
Gospels  by  heart ;  Marion  Matthew,  Dorothy  Long,  Cathe- 
rine Swain,  Alice  Gardiner,  and  above  all,  Gyrling's  wife, 
who  had  been  in  service  with  a  priest  lately  burnt  for  heresy, 
took  part  in  these  gospel  meetings.  And  it  was  not  in  cot- 
tages only  that  the  glad  tidings  were  then  proclaimed ;  Bower 
Hall,  the  residence  of  the  squires  of  Bumpstead,  was  open 
to  Foxe,  Topley,  and  Tyball,  who  often  read  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures in  the  great  hall  of  the  mansion,  in  the  presence  of  the 

•  Strype.vol.  i.  ch.  i.  p.  121.  t  Ibid.  p.  130. 


384  TWO  FORMS  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

master  and  all  their  household :  a  humble  Eeformation  more 
real  than  that  effected  by  Henry  VIII. 

There  was,  however,  some  diversity  of  opinion  among 
these  brethren.  "  All  who  have  begun  to  believe,"  said 
Tyball,  Pykas,  and  others,  "  ought  to  meet  together  to  heai 

the  word  and  increase  in  faith.  We  pray  in  common • 

and  that  constitutes  a  church."  Coverdale,  Bilney,  and  La- 
timer  (villingly  recognised  these  incomplete  societies,  in  which 
the  members  met  simply  as  disciples  ;  they  believed  them 
necessary  at  a  period  when  the  church  was  forming.  These 
societies  (in  the  reformers'  views)  proved  that  organization 
has  not  the  priority  in  the  Christian  church,  as  Rome  main- 
tains, and  that  this  priority  belongs  to  the  faith  and  the  life. 
But  this  imperfect  form  they  also  regarded  as  provisional. 
To  prevent  numerous  dangers,  it  was  necessary  that  this 
society  should  be  succeeded  by  another,  the  church  of  the 
New  Testament,  with  its  elders  or  bishops,  and  deacons. 
The  word,  they  thought,  rendered  a  ministry  of  the  word 
necessary;  and  for  its  proper  exercise  not  only  piety  was 
required,  but  a  knowledge  of  the  sacred  languages,  the  gift 
of  eloquence,  its  exercise  and  perfection.  However,  there 
was  no  division  among  these  Christians  upon  secondary 
matters. 

For  some  time  the  bishop  of  London  watched  this  move- 
ment with  uneasiness.  He  caused  Hacker  to  be  arrested, 
who,  for  six  years  past,  had  gone  from  house  to  house  read- 
ing the  Bible  in  London  and  Essex ;  examined  and  threatened 
him,  inquired  carefully  after  the  names  of  those  who  had 
shown  him  hospitality;  and  the  poor  man  in  alarm  had 
given  up  about  forty  of  his  brethren.  Sebastian  Harris, 
priest  of  Kensington,  Forman,  rector  of  All  Hallows,  John 
and  William  Pykas,  and  many  others,  were  summoned  be- 
fore the  bishop.  They  were  taken  to  prison ;  they  were  led 
before  the  judges ;  they  were  put  in  the  stocks ;  they  were 
tormented  in  a  thousand  ways.  Their  minds  became  con- 
fused ;  their  thoughts  wandered ;  and  many  made  the  con- 
fessions required  by  their  persecutors. 

The  adversaries  of  the  gospel,  proud  of  this  success,  now 
desired  a  more  glorious  victory.  If  they  could  not  reach 


MONMOUTH  ARRESTED.  385 

Tyndale,  had  they  not  in  London  the  patron  of  his  work, 
Monmouth,  the  most  influential  of  the  merchants,  and  a  fol- 
lower of  the  true  faith?  The  clergy  had  made  religion  their 
business,  and  the  Reformation  restored  it  to  the  people. 
Nothing  offended  the  priests  so  much,  as  that  laymen  should 
claim  the  right  to  believe  without  their  intervention,  and 
even  to  propagate  the  faith.  Sir  Thomas  More,  one  of  the 
most  amiable  men  of  the  sixteenth  century,  participated  in 
their  hatred.  He  wrote  to  Cochlaeus :  "  Germany  now  daily 
bringeth  forth  monsters  more  deadly  than  what  Africa  was 
wont  to  do  ;*  but,  alas !  she  is  not  alone.  Numbers  of  Eng- 
lishmen, who  would  not  a  few  years  ago  even  hear  Luther's 
name  mentioned,  are  now  publishing  his  praises  1  England 
is  now  like  the  sea,  which  swells  and  heaves  before  a  great 
storm,  without  any  wind  stirring  it."-j-  More  felt  particularly 
irritated,  because  the  boldness  of  the  gospellers  had  succeeded 
to  the  timidity  of  the  Lollards.  "  The  heretics,"  he  said, 
"  have  put  off  hypocrisy,  and  put  on  impudence."  He  there- 
fore resolved  to  set  his  hand  to  the  work. 

On  the  14th  of  May  1529,  Monmouth  was  in  his  shop, 
when  an  usher  came  and  summoned  him  to  appear  before 
Sir  J.  Dauncies,  one  of  the  privy  council.  The  pious  mer- 
chant obeyed,  striving  to  persuade  himself  that  he  was  wanted 
on  some  matter  of  business ;  but  in  this  he  was  deceived,  as 
he  soon  found  out.  "  What  letters  and  books  have  you 
lately  received  from  abroad  ?"J  asked,  with  some  severity, 
Sir  Thomas  More,  who,  with  Sir  William  Kingston,  was  Sir 
John's  colleague.  "  None,"  replied  Monmouth.  "  What 
aid  have  you  given  to  any  persons  living  on  the  continent?" 
— "  None,  for  these  last  three  years.  William  Tyndale 
abode  with  me  six  months,"  he  continued,  "  and  his  life  was 
what  a  good  priest's  ought  to  be.  I  gave  him  ten  pounds 
at  the  period  of  his  departure,  but  nothing  since.  Besides, 
he  is  not  the  only  one  I  have  helped ;  the  bishop  of  London's 
chaplain,  for  instance,  has  received  of  me  more  than  £50." — 
"  What  books  have  you  in  your  possession?"  The  mer- 
chant named  the  New  Testament  and  some  other  works. 

•  Mora's  Life,  p.  82.  f  Ibid.  p.  1 17. 

£  Strype,  Records,  p.  363. 

17*  . 


386  HE  IS  INTERROGATED  BY  MORE. 

"  All  these  books  have  lain  more  than  two  years  on  my 
table,  and  I  never  heard  that  either  priests,  friars,  or  laymen 
learnt  any  great  errors  from  them."*  More  tossed  his  head. 
"  It  is  a  hard  matter,"  he  used  to  say,  "  to  put  a  dry  stick 
in  the  fire  without  its  burning,  or  to  nourish  a  snake  in  our 
bosom  and  not  be  stung  by  it.f — That  is  enough,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  we  shall  go  and  search  your  house."  Not  a  paper 
escaped  their  curiosity ;  but  they  found  nothing  to  compro- 
mise Monmouth;  he  was  however  sent  to  the  Tower. 

After  some  interval  the  merchant  was  again  brought  be- 
fore his  judges.  "  You  are  accused,"  said  More,  "  of  having 
bought  Martin  Luther's  tracts ;  of  maintaining  those  who 
are  translating  the  Scriptures  into  English ;  of  subscribing 
to  get  the  New  Testament  printed  in  English,  with  or  without 
glosses ;  of  having  imported  it  into  the  kingdom ;  and,  lastly, 
of  having  said  that  faith  alone  is  sufficient  to  save  a  man."  J 

There  was  matter  enough  to  burn  several  men.  Mon- 
mouth, feeling  convinced  that  Wolsey  alone  had  power  to 
deliver  him,  resolved  to  apply  to  him.  "  What  will  become 
of  my  poor  workmen  in  London  and  in  the  country  during 
my  imprisonment?"  he  wrote  to  the  cardinal.  "They  must 

have  their  money  every  week;  who  will  give  it  them? 

Besides,  I  make  considerable  sales  in  foreign  countries,  which 
bring  laige  returns  to  his  majesty's  customs.  §  If  I  remain 
in  prison,  this  commerce  is  stopped,  and  of  course  all  the  pro- 
ceeds for  the  exchequer."  Wolsey,  who  was  as  much  a 
statesman  as  a  churchman,  began  to  melt ;  on  the  eve  of  a 
struggle  with  the  pope  and  the  emperor,  he  feared,  besides, 
to  make  the  people  discontented.  Monmouth  was  released 
from  prison.  As  alderman,  and  then  as  sheriff  of  London, 
he  was  faithful  until  death,  and  ordered  in  his  last  will  that 
thirty  sermons  should  be  preached  by  the  most  evangelical 
ministers  in  England,  "  to  make  known  the  holy  word  of 
Jesus  Christ."—"  That  is  better,"  he  thought,  "  than  found- 
ing masses."  The  Reformation  showed,  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  that  great  activity  in  commerce  might  be  allied  to 
great  piety. 

*  Strype,  Records,  p.  365.  f  More's  Life,  p.  116. 

t  Strype's  Mem.  i.  p.  400.  §  Strype.  Records,  i.  p,  367. 


POLITICAL  CHANGES.  387 


CHAPTER  III. 

Political  Changes— Fresh  Instructions  from  the  Pope  to  Campeggio — His 
Delays— He  unbosoms  himself  to  Francis— A  Prediction — Arrival  of 
Campeggio — Wolsey's  Uneasiness — Henry's  Satisfaction — The  Car- 
dinal's Project— Campeggio's  Reception — First  Interview  with  the 
Queen  and  with  the  King — Useless  Efforts  to  make  Campeggio  part 
with  the  Decretal — The  Nuncio's  Conscience — Public  Opinion — Meas- 
ures taken  by  the  King— His  Speech  to  the  Lords  and  Aldermen — 
Festivities— Wolsey  seeks  French  Support — Contrariety. 

WHILE  these  persecutions  were  agitating  the  fields  and  the 
capital  of  England,  all  had  changed  in  the  ecclesiastical 
world,  because  all  had  changed  in  the  political.  The  pope, 
pressed  by  Henry  VIII.  and  intimidated  by  the  armies  of 
Francis  I.,  had  granted  the  decretal  and  despatched  Cam- 
peggio. But,  on  a  sudden,  there  was  a  new  evolution ;  a 
change  of  events  brought  a  change  of  counsels.  Doria  had 
gone  over  to  the  emperor ;  his  fleet  had  restored  abundance 
to  Naples ;  the  army  of  Francis  I.,  ravaged  by  famine  and 
pestilence,  had  capitulated ;  and  Charles  V.,  triumphant  in 
Italy,  had  said  proudly  to  the  pope :  "  We  are  determined 
to  defend  the  queen  of  England  against  King  Henry's  in- 
justice."* 

Charles  having  recovered  his  superiority,  the  affrighted 
pope  opened  his  eyes  to  the  justice  of  Catherine's  cause. 
"  Send  four  messengers  after  Campeggio,"  said  he  to  his 
officers ;  "  and  let  each  take  a  different  road ;  bid  them  travel 
with  all  speed  and  deliver  our  despatches  to  him."-{-  They 
overtook  the  legate,  who  opened  the  pope's  letters.  "  In  the 
first  place,"  said  Clement  VII.  to  him,  "  protract  your  journey. 
In  the  second  place,  when  you  reach  England,  use  every 
endeavour  to  reconcile  the  king  and  queen.  In  the  third 

*  Cum  Caesar  materterae  suae  causam  contra  injurias  Henrici  pro- 
pngnaverit.  Sanders,  p.  28. 

t  Quatuor  nuncios  celerrimo  cursu  diversis  itineribus  ad  Campegium 
misit.  Ibid.  «t  Herbert,  p.  253. 


388  CAMPEGGIO'S  DELAYS. 

place,  if  you  do  not  succeed,  persuade  the  queen  to  take  the 
veil.  And  in  the  last  place,  if  she  refuses,  do  not  pronounce 
any  sentence  favourable  to  the  divorce  without  a  new  and 
express  order  from  me.  This  is  the  essential :  Summum  et 
maximum  mandatum"  The  ambassador  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff  had  a  mission  to  do  nothing.  This  instruction  is 
sometimes  as  effective  as  any. 

Campeggio,  the  youngest  of  the  cardinals,  was  the  most 
intelligent  and  the  slowest ;  and  this  slowness  caused  his 
selection  by  the  pope.  He  understood  his  master.  If 
"Wolsey  was  Henry's  spur  to  urge  on  Campeggio,  the  latter 
was  Clement's  bridle  to  check  Wolsey.*  One  of  the  judges 
of  the  divorce  was  about  to  pull  forwards,  the  other  back- 
wards ;  thus  the  business  stood  a  chance  of  not  advancing 
at  all,  which  was  just  what  the  pope  required. 

The  legate,  very  eager  to  relax  his  speed,  spent  three 
months  on  his  journey  from  Italy  to  England.  He  should 
have  embarked  for  France  on  the  23d  of  July ;  but  the  end 
of  August  was  approaching,  and  no  one  knew  in  that  coun- 
try what  had  become  of  him.-J-  At  length  they  learnt  that 
he  had  reached  Lyons  on  the  22d  of  August.  The  English 
ambassador  in  France  sent  him  horses,  carriages,  plate,  and 
money,  in  order  to  hasten  his  progress ;  the  legate  complained 
of  the  gout,  and  Gardiner  found  the  greatest  difficulty  in 
getting  him  to  move.  Henry  wrote  every  day  to  Anne 
Boleyn,  complaining  of  the  slow  progress  of  the  nuncio.  "  He 
arrived  in  Paris  last  Sunday  or  Monday,"  he  says  at  the 
beginning  of  September ;  "  Monday  next  we  shall  hear  of  his 
arrival  in  Calais,  and  then  I  shall  obtain  what  I  have  so 
longed  for,  to  God's  pleasure  and  both  our  comforts."! 

At  the  same  time  this  impatient  prince  sent  message  after 
message  to  accelerate  the  legate's  rate  of  travelling. 

Anne  began  to  desire  a  future  which  surpassed  all  that  her 
youthful  imagination  had  conceived,  and  her  agitated  heart 
expanded  to  the  breath  of  hope.  She  wrote  to  Wolsey : 

'"  This  shall  be  to  give  unto  your  grace,  as  I  am  most 

*  Fuller,  book  v.  p.  172.  f  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  91,  92. 

J  Pamphleteer,  No.  43,  p.  117. 


ANNE'S  LETTER  TO  WOLSEY.  389 

bound,  my  humble  thanks  for  the  great  pain  and  travail  that 
your  grace  doth  take  in  studying,  by  your  wisdom  and  great 
diligence,  how  to  bring  to  pass  honourably  the  greatest 
wealth  [well-being]  that  is  possible  to  come  to  any  creature 
living;  and  in  especial  remembering  how  wretdied  and  un- 
worthy I  am  in  comparison  to  his  highness Now,  good 

my  lord,  your  discretion  may  consider  as  yet  how  little  it  is 
in  my  power  to  recompense  you  but  alonely  [only]  with  my 
good  will ;  the  which  I  assure  you,  look  what  thing  in  this 
world  I  can  imagine  to  do  you  pleasure  in,  you  shall  find  me 
the  gladdest  woman  in  the  world  to  do  it."* 

But  the  impatience  of  the  king  of  England  and  of  Anno 
seemed  as  if  it  would  never  be  satisfied.  Campeggio,  on  his 
way  through  Paris,  told  Francis  I.  that  the  divorce  would 
never  take  place,  and  that  he  should  soon  go  to  Spain  to  see 
Charles  V This  was  significative.  "The  king  of  Eng- 
land ought  to  know,"  said  the  indignant  Francis  to«the  duke 
of  Suffolk,  "  that  Campeggio  is  imperialist  at  heart,  and  that 
his  mission  in  England  will  be  a  mere  mockery."  -j- 

In  truth,  the  Spanish  and  Roman  factions  tried  every  ma- 
noeuvre to  prevent  a  union  they  detested.  Anne  Boleyn, 
queen  of  England,  signified  not  only  Catherine  humbled,  but 
Charles  offended ;  the  clerical  party  weakened,  perhaps  de- 
stroyed, and  the  evangelical  party  put  in  its  place.  The 
Romish  faction  found  accomplices  even  in  Anne's  own  family. 
Her  brother  George's  wife,  a  proud  and  passionate  woman, 
and  a  rigid  Roman-catholic,  had  sworn  an  implacable  hatred 
against  her  young  sister.  By  this  means  wounds  might.be 
inflicted,  even  in  the  domestic  sanctuary,  which  would  not 
be  the  less  deep  because  they  were  the  work  of  her  own 
kindred.  One  day  we  are  told  that  Anne  found  in  her  cham- 
ber a  book  of  pretended  prophecies,  in  which  was  a  picture 
representing  a  king,  a  queen  shedding  tears,  and  at  their  feet 
a  young  lady  headless.  Anne  turned  away  her  eyes  with 

*  Pamphleteer,  p.  151. 

t  The  cardinal  intended  not  that  your  Grace's  matter  should  take 
effect,  but  only  to  use  dissimulation  with  your  Grace,  for  he  is  eutirelj 
imperial.  Suffolk  to  Henry,  State  Papers  vii.  p.  183. 


390  A  CKUEJL  PKOPHECY. 

disgust.  She  desired,  however,  to  know  what  this  emblem 
signified,  and  officious  friends  brought  to  her  one  of  those 
pretended  wise  men,  so  numerous  at  all  times,  who  abuse  the 
credulity  of  the  ignorant  by  professing  to  interpret  such  mys- 
teries. "  This  prophetic  picture,"  he  said,  "  represents  the 
history  of  the  king  and  his  wife."  Anne  was  not  credulous, 
but  she  understood  what  her  enemies  meant  to  insinuate, 
and  dismissed  the  mock  interpreter  without  betraying  any 
signs  of  fear ;  then  turning  to  her  favourite  attendant,  Anne 
Saville,  "  Come  hither,  Nan,"  said  she,  "  look  at  this  book 
of  prophecies ;  this  is  the  king,  this  is  the  queen  wringing 
her  hands  and  mourning,  and  this  (putting  her  finger  on  the 
bleeding  body)  is  myself,  with  my  head  cut  off." — The  young 
lady  answered  with  a  shudder :  "  If  I  thought  it  were  true, 
I  would  not  myself  have  him  were  he  an  emperor." — "  Tut, 
Nan,"  replied  Anne  Boleyn  with  a  sweet  smile,  "  I  think 
the  book  a  bauble,  and  am  resolved  to  have  him,  that  my 
issue  ma^y  be  royal,  whatever  may  become  of  me."  *  This 
story  is  based  on  good  authority,  and  there  were  so  many 
predictions  of  this  kind  afloat  that  it  ia  very  possible  one  of 
them  might  come  true;  people  afterwards  recollected  only 
the  prophecies  confirmed  by  the  events.  But,  be  that  as  it 
may,  this  young  lady,  so  severely  chastised  in  after-days, 
found  in  her  God  an  abundant  consolation. 

At  length  Campeggio  embarked  at  Calais  on  the  29th  or 
September,  and  unfortunately  for  him  he  had  an  excellent 
passage  across  the  Channel.  A  storm  to  drive  him  back  to 
the  French  coast  would  have  suited  him  admirably.  But  on 
the  1st  of  October  he  was  at  Canterbury,  whence  he  an- 
nounced his  arrival  to  the  king.  At  this  news,  Henry  for- 
got all  the  delays  which  had  so  irritated  him.  "  His  majesty 
can  never  be  sufficiently  grateful  to  your  holiness  for  so 
great  a  favour,"  wrote  Wolsey  to  the  pope ;  "  but  he  will 
employ  his  riches,  his  kingdom,  his  life  even,  and  deserve 
the  name  of  Restorer  of  the  Church  as  justly  as  he  has  gained 
that  of  Defender  of  the  Faith."  This  zeal  alarmed  Cam- 
peggio, for  the  pope  wrote  to  him  that  any  proceeding  which 
might  irritate  Charles  would  inevitably  cause  the  ruin  of  the 
*  Wyatt,  p.  430 


CAMPEGGIO  ENTERS  LONDON.  391 

church.*  The  nuncio  became  more  dilatory  than  ever,  and 
although  he  reached  Canterbury  on  the  1st  of  October,  he 
did  not  arrive  at  Dartford  until  the  5th,  thus  taking  four 
days  for  a  journey  of  about  thirty  miles.f 

Meanwhile  preparations  were  making  to  receive  him  in 
London.  Wolsey,  feeling  contempt  for  the  poverty  of  the 
Roman  cardinals,  and  very  uneasy  about  the  equipage  with 
which  his  colleague  was  likely  to  make  his  entrance  into  the 
capital,  sent  a  number  of  showy  chests,  rich  carpets,  litters 
hung  with  drapery,  and  harnessed  mules.  On  the  other 
hand  Campeggio,  whose  secret  mission  was  to  keep  in  the' 
back-ground,  and  above  allato  do  nothing,  feared  these  ban- 
ners, and  trappings,  and  all  the  parade  of  a  triumphal  entry. 
Alleging  therefore  an  attack  of  gout  in  order  to  escape  from 
the  pomps  his  colleague  had  prepared  for  him,  he  quietly  took 
a  boat,  and  thus  reached  the  palace  of  the  bishop  of  Bath, 
where  he  was  to  lodge. 

While  the  nuncio  was  thus  proceeding  unnoticed  up  the 
Thames,  the  equipages  sent  by  Wolsey  entered  London 
through  the  midst  of  a  gaping  crowd,  who  looked  on  them 
with  curiosity  as  if  they  had  come  from  the  banks  of  the 
Tiber.  Some  of  the  mules  however  took  fright  and  ran 
away,  the  coffers  fell  off  and  burst  open,  when  there  was  a 
general  rush  to  see  their  contents ;  but  to  the  surprise  of  all 
they  were  empty.  This  was  an  excellent  jest  for  the  citizens 
of  London.  "  Fine  outside,  empty  inside ;  a  just  emblem 
of  the  popedom,  its  embassy,  and  foolish  pomps,"  they  said ; 
"  a  sham  legate,  a  procession  of  masks,  and  the  whole  a 
farce ! " 

Campeggio  was  come  at  last,  and  now  what  he  dreaded 
most  was  an  audience.  "  I  cannot  move,"  he  said,  "  or  en- 
dure the  motion  of  a  litter."  J  Never  had  an  attack  of  gout 
been  more  seasonable.  Wolsey,  who  paid  him  frequent 
visits,  soon  found  him  to  be  his  equal  in  cunning.  To  no 

*  Sanga  to  Campeggio,  from  Viterbo,  27th  September,  llankc 
Deutsche  Gesch.  iii.  p.  135. 

•f-  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  94,  95. 

J  Despatch  from  the  bishop  of  Bayonne,  16th  October  1529.  Le  Grand, 
Pre  uves,  p.  169. 


392  ANNE'S  INDECISION  TERMINATED. 

purpose  did  he  treat  him  with  every  mark  of  respect,  shak- 
ing his  hand  and  making  much  of  him ;  *  it  was  labour  lost, 
the  Roman  nuncio  would  say  nothing,  and  Wolsey  began  to 
despair.  The  king,  on  the  contrary,  was  full  of  hope,  and 
fancied  he  already  had  the  act  of  divorce  in  his  portfolio,  be- 
cause he  had  the  nuncio  in  his  kingdom. 

The  greatest  effect  of  the  nuncio's  arrival  was  the  putting 
an  end  to  Anne  Boleyn's  indecision.  She  had  several  re- 
lapses :  the  trials  which  she  foresaw,  and  the  grief  Catherine 
must  necessarily  feel,  had  agitated  her  imagination  and  dis- 
turbed her  mind.  But  when  she  saw  the  church  and  her 
own  enemies  prepared  to  pronounce  the  king's  divorce,  her 
doubts  were  removed,  and  she  regarded  as  legitimate  the 
position  that  was  offered  her.  The  king,  who  suffered  from 
her  scruples,  was  delighted  at  this  change.  "  I  desire  to  in- 
form you,"  he  wrote  to  her  in  English,  "  what  joy  it  is  to 
me  to  understand  of  your  conformableness  with  reason,  and 
of  the  suppressing  of  your  inutile  and  vain  thoughts  and 
fantasies  with  the  bridle  of  reason.  I  assure  you  all  the 
greatness  of  this  world  could  not  counterpoise  for  my  satis- 
faction the  knowledge  and  certainty  thereof The  unfeigned 

sickness  of  this  well-willing  legate  doth  somewhat  retard  his 
access  to  your  person."-}-  It  was  therefore  the  determina- 
tion of  the  pope  that  made  Anne  Boleyn  resolve  to  accept 
Henry's  hand  ;  this  is  an  important  lesson  for  which  we  are 
indebted  to  the  Vatican  letters.  We  should  be  grateful  to 
the  papacy  for  having  so  carefully  preserved  them. 

But  the  more  Henry  rejoiced,  the  more  Wolsey  despaired ; 
he  would  have  desired  to  penetrate  into  Clement's  thoughts, 
but  could  not  succeed.  Imagining  that  De  Angelis,  the 
general  of  the'  Spanish  Observance,  knew  all  the  secrets  of 
the  pope  and  of  the  emperor,  he  conceived  the  plan  of  kid- 
napping him.  "  If  he  goes  to  Spain  by  sea,"  said  he  to  Du 
Bellay,  "  a  good  brigantine  or  two  would  do  the  business ; 
and  if  by  land,  it  will  be  easier  still."  Du  Bellay  failed  not 
(as  he  informs  us  himself)  "  to.  tell  him  plainly  that  by  such 

*  Quern  sirpius  visitavi  et  amantis/me  sum  complexus.  State  Papers, 
vii.  p.  103. 
f  Pamphleteer,  No.  43,  r.  123. 


CAMPEGGIO'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  TIIE  QUEEN.  393 

proceedings  lie  would  entirely  forfeit  the  pope's  good  will." — 
"What  matter?"  replied  Wolsey,  "  Fhave  nothing  to  lose." 
As  he  said  this,  tears  started  to  his  eyes.*  At  last  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  remain  ignorant  of  the  pontiff's  designs,  and 
wiped  his  eyes,  awaiting,  not  without  fear,  the  interview  be- 
tween Henry  and  Campeggio. 

On  the  22d  of  October,  a  month  after  his  arrival,  the  nun- 
cio, borne  in  a  sedan  chair  of  red  velvet,  was  carried  to  court. 
He  was  placed  on  the  right  of  the  throne,  and  his  secretary 
in  his  name  delivered  a  high-sounding  speech,  saluting 
Henry  with  the  name  of  Saviour  of  Rome,  Liberator  urlif. 
"  His  majesty,"  replied  Fo*  in  the  king's  name,  "  has  only 
performed  the  duties  incumbent  on  a  Christian  prince,  and 
he  hopes  that  the  holy  see  will  bear  them  in  mind." — "  Well 
attacked,  well  defended,"  said  Du  Bellay.  For  the  moment, 
a  few  Latin  declamations  got  the  papal  'nuncio  out  of  his 
difficulties. 

Campeggio  did  not  deceive  himself:  if  the  divorce  were 
refused,  he  foresaw  the  reformation  of  England.  Yet  he 
hoped  still,  for  he  was  assured  that  Catherine  would  submit 
to  the  judgment  of  the  church;  and  being  fully  persuaded 
that  the  queen  would  refuse  the  holy  father  nothing, -the 
nuncio  began  "  his  approaches,"  as  Du  Bellay  calls  them. 
On  the  27th  of  October,  the  two  cardinals  waited  on  Cathe- 
rine, and  in  flattering  terms  insinuated  that  she  might  pre- 
vent the  blow  which  threatened  her  by  voluntary  retirement 
into  a  convent.  And  then,  to  end  all  indecision  in  the  queen's 
mind,  Campeggio  put  on  a  severe  look  and  exclaimed:  "  How 
is  it,  madam,  explain  the  mystery  to  us  ?  From  the  moment 
the  holy  father  appointed  us  to  examine  the  question  of  your 
divorce,  you  have  been  seen  not  only  at  court,  but  in  public, 
wearing  the  most  magnificent  ornaments,  participating  with 
an  appearance  of  gaiety  and  satisfaction  at  amusements  and 

festivities  which  you  had  never  tolerated  before The 

church  is  in  the  most  cruel  embarrassment  with  regard  to 
you ;  the  king,  your  husband,  is  in  the  greatest  perplexity ; 
the  princess,  your  daughter,  is  taken  from  you and  in- 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorenoy,  21st  October.  Le  Grand.  Preuves, 
p.  185. 


3D 4  THE  QUEEN'S  REPLY. 

stead  of  shedding  tears,  you  give  yourself  up  to  vanity. 
Renounce  the  world,  madam ;  enter  a  nunnery.  Our  holy 
father  himself  requires  this  of  you."  * 

The  agitated  queen  was  almost  fainting ;  stifling  her  emo- 
tion, however,  she  said  mildly  but  firmly :  "  Alas !  my  lords, 
is  it  now  a  question  whether  I  am  the  king's  lawful  wife  or 
not,  when  I  have  been  married  to  him  almost  twenty  years 

and  no  objection  raised  before? Divers  prelates  and  lords 

are  yet  alive  who  then  adjudged  our  marriage  good  and  law- 
ful,— and  now  to  say  it  is  detestable !  this  is  a  great  marvel 
to  me,  especially  when  I  consider  what  a  wise  prince  the 
king's  father  was,  and  also  the  natural  love  and  affection  my 
father,  King  Ferdinand,  bare  unto  me.  I  think  that  neither 
of  these  illustrious  princes  would  have  made  me  contract  an 
illicit  union."  At  these  words,  Catherine's  emotion  com- 
pelled her  to  stop*. — "  If  I  weep,  my  lords,"  she  continued 
almost  immediately,  "  it  is  not  for  myself,  it  is  for  a  person 
dearer  to  me  than  my  life.  What !  I  should  consent  to  an 
act  which  deprives  my  daughter  of  a  crown  ?  No,  I  will  not 
sacrifice  my  child.  I  know  what  dangers  threaten  me.  I 
am  only  a  weak  woman,  a  stranger,  without  learning,  ad- 
visers, or  friends and  my  enemies  are  skilful,  learned  in 

the  laws,  and  desirous  to  merit  their  master's  favour 

and  more  than  that,  even  my  judges  are  my  enemies.  Can 
I  receive  as  such."  she  said  as  she  looked  at  Campeggio, 

"  a  man  extorted  from  the  pope  by  manifest  lying? And 

as  for  you,"  added  she,  turning  haughtily  to  Wolsey,  "  having 
failed  in  attaining  the  tiara,  you  have  sworn  to  revenge  your- 
self on  my  nephew  the  emperor and  you  have  kept  him 

true  promise ;  for  of  all  his  wars  and  vexations,  he  may  only 
thank  you.  One  victim  was  not  enough  for  you.  Forging 
abominable  suppositions,  you  desire  to  plunge  his  aunt  into 

a  frightful  abyss But  my  cause  is  just,  and  I  trust  it  in 

the  Lord's  hand."  After  this  bold  language,  the  unhappy 
Catherine  withdrew  to  her  apartments.  The  imminence  of 
the  danger  effected  a  salutary  revolution  in  her;  she  laid 
aside  her  brilliant  ornaments,  assumed  the  sober  garments 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency    1st  November.    Le  Grand,  Preuves, 
p.  1.05. 


HENRY'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  NUNCIO.  395 

in  which  she  is  usually  represented,  and  passed  days  and 
nights  in  mourning  and  in  tears.* 

Thus  Campeggio  saw  his  hopes  deceived ;  he  had  thought 

to  find  a  nun,  and  had  met  a  queen  and  a  mother He 

now  proceeded  to  set  every  imaginable  spring  at  work;  as 
Catherine  would  not  renounce  Henry,  he  must  try  and  pre- 
A'ail  upon  Henry  to  renounce  his  idea  of  separating  from  the 
queen.  The  Roman  legate  therefore  changed  his  batteries, 
and  turned  them  against  the  king. 

Henry,  always  impatient,  went  one  day  unannounced  to 
Campeggio's  lodging,  accompanied  by  Wolsey  only  :-j-  "  As 
we  are  without  witnesses,"  he  said,  taking  his  seat  familiarly 
between  the  two  cardinals,  "  let  us  speak  freely  of  our  affairs.  J 
— How  shall  you  proceed  ?"  But  to  his  great  astonishment 
and  grief,  §  the  nuncio  prayed  him,  with  all  imaginable  de- 
licacy, to  renounce  the  divorce.||  At  these  words  the  fiery 
Tudor  burst  out :  "  Is  this  how  the  pope  keeps  his  word  ? 
He  sends  me  an  ambassador  to  annul  my  marriage,  but  in 
reality  to  confirm  it."  He  made  a  pause.  Campeggio  knew 
not  what  to  say.  Henry  and  Catherine  being  equally  per- 
suaded of  the  justice  of  their  cause,  the  nuncio  was  in  a 
dilemma.  Wolsey  himself  suffered  a  martyrdom.^  The 
king's  anger  grew  fiercer ;  he  had  thought  the  legate  would 
hasten  to  withdraw  an  imprudent  expression,  but  Campeggio 
was  dumb.  "  I  see  that  you  have  chosen  your  part,"  said 
Henry  to  the  nuncio ;  "  mine,  you  may  be  sure,  will  soon  be 
taken  also.  Let  the  pope  only  persevere  in  this  way  of  act- 
ing, and  the  apostolical  see,  cohered  with  perpetual  infamy, 
will  be  visited  with  a  frightful  destruction."**  The  lion  had 
thrown  off  the  lamb's  skin  which  he  had  momentarily  as- 

*  Regina  in  luctu  et  lacrymis  nodes  diesque  egit.    Sanders,  p.  29. 

f  Regia  majestas  et  ego  ad  eum  crebro  accessimus.  State  Papers, 
vii.  p.  103. 

J  Rex  et  duo  cardinales,  remotis  arbitris,  de  suis  rebus  multum  et  dis 
collocuti.  Sanders,  p.  29. 

§  Incredibili  utriusque  nostrum  animi  moerore.  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  104. 

!!  Conatus  est  ornne  divortium  inter  regiam  majestatem  et  regiiia'.n 
dissuadere.  Ibid. 

H  Non  absque  ingenti  cruciatu.    Ibid. 

**  lugemiscendum  excidium,  perpetua  infamia.    Ibid. 


396  CAMPEGGIO  SHOWS  THE  DECRETAL. 

sumed.  Campeggio  felt  that  he  must  appease  the  monarch. 
"  Craft  and  delay"  were  his  orders  from  Rome ;  and  with 
that  view  the  pope  had  provided  him  with  the  necessafy 
arms.  He  hastened  to  produce  the  famous  decretal  which 
pronounced  the  divorce.  "  The  holy  father,"  he  told  the 
king,  "  ardently  desires  that  this  matter  should  be  terminated 
by  a  happy  reconciliation  between  you  and  the  queen ;  but 
if  that  is  impossible,  you  shall  judge  yourself  whether  or  not 
his  holiness  can  keep  his  promises."  He  then  read  the  bull, 
and  even  showed  it  to  Henry,  without  permitting  it,  however, 
to  leave  his  hands.  This  exhibition  produced  the  desired 
effect :  Henry  grew  calm.  "  Now  I  am  at  ease  again,"  he 
said ;  "  this  miraculous  talisman  revives  all  my  courage. 
This  decretal  is  the  efficacious  remedy  that  will  restore  peace 
to  my  oppressed  conscience,  and  joy  to  my  bruised  heart.* 
Write  to  his  holiness,  that  this  immense  benefit  binds  me  to 
him  so  closely,  that  he  may  expect  from  me  more  than  his 
imagination  can  conceive." 

And  yet  a  few  clouds  gathered  shortly  after  in  the  king's 
mind. 

Campcggio  having  shown  the  bull  had  hastened  to  lock  it 
up  again.  Would  he  presume  to  keep  it  in  his  own  hands  ? 
Henry  and  Wolsey  will  leave  no  means  untried  to  get  pos- 
session of  it ;  that  point  gained,  and  victory  is  theirs. 

Wolsey  having  returned  to  the  nuncio,  he  asked  him  for 
the  decretal  with  an  air  of  candour  as  if  it  was  the  most  na- 
tural thing  in  the  world.  He  desired,  he  said,  to  show  it  to 
the  king's  privy  councillors.  •  "  The  pope,"  replied  Campeg- 
gio, "  has  granted  this  bull,  not  to  be  used,  but  to  be  kept 
secret  ;f  he  simply  desired  to  show  the  king  the  good  feeling 
by  which  he  was  animated."  Wolsey  having  failed,  Henry 
tried  his  skill.  "  Have  the  goodness  to  hand  me  the  bull 
which  you  showed  me,"  said  he.  The  nuncio  respectfully 
refused.  "  For  a  single  moment,"  he  said.  Campeggio  still 
refused.  The  haughty  Tudor  retired,  stifling  his  anger. 
Then  Wolsey  made  another  attempt,  and  founded  his  de- 

*  Remedium  levamenque  affiictae   oppressaque   conscientizc.     State 
Papers,  vii.  p.  104. 
•h  Non  ut  ea  uteremur,  sed  ut  sccreta  haberctur.     Ibid. 


REFUSES  TO  PART  WITH  IT.  397 

raand  on  justice.     "  Like  you,  I  am  delegated  by  his  holi- 
ness to  decide  this  affair,"  he  said,  "  and  I  wish  to  study  the 
important  document  which  is  to  regulate  our  proceedings/' — 
This  was  met  by  a  new  refusal.     "  What!"  exclaimed  the. 
^minister  of  Henry  VIII.,  "  am  I  not,  like  you,  a  cardinal? 

like  you,  a  judge?  your  colleague?"     It  mattered  not, 

the  nuncio  would  not,  by  any  means,  let  the  decretal  go.* 
Clement  was  not  deceived  in  the  choice  he  had  made  of 
Campeggio:  the  ambassador  was  worthy  of  his  master. 

It  was  evident  that  the  pope  in  granting  the  bull  had  been 
acting  a  part :  this  trick  revolted  the  king.  It  was  no  longer 
anger  that  he  felt,  but  disgust.  Wolsey  knew  that  Henry's 
contempt  was  more  to  be  feared  than  his  wrath.  He  grew 
alarmed,  and  paid  the  nuncio  another  visit.  "  The  general 
commission,"  he  said,  "  is  insufficient,  the  decretal  commis- 
sion alone  can  be  of  service,  and  you  do  not  permit  us  to 

read  a  word  of  it.-J- The  king  and  I  place  the  greatest 

confidence  in  the  good  intentions  of  his  holiness,  and  yet  we 
find  our  expectations  frustrated.  J  Where  is  that  paternal 
affection  with  which  we  had  flattered  ourselves  ?  What 
prince  has  ever  been  trifled  with  as  the  king  of  England  is 
now?  If  this  is  the  way  in  which  the  Defender  of  the  Faith 
is  rewarded,  Christendom  will  know  what  those  who  serve 
Rome  will  have  to  expect  from  her,  and  every  power  will 
withdraw  its  support.  Do  not  deceive  yourselves :  the 
foundation  on  which  the  holy  see  is  placed  is  so  very  insecure 
that  the  least  movement  will  suffice  to  precipitate  it  into 
everlasting  ruin§  What  a  sad  futurity! what  inex- 
pressible torture! whether  I  wake  or  sleep,  gloomy 

thoughts  continually  pursue  me  like  a  frightful  nightmare."  || 
This  time  Wolsey  spoke  the  truth. 

But  all  his  eloquence  was  useless ;  Campeggio  refused  to 

*  Nullo  pacto  adduci  vult,  ut  mihi,  suo  collegce,  commissionem  hano 
decreta'iem  e  suis  maaibus  credat.  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  105. 

•f  Nee  ullum  verbum  nee  mentionem  ullam.     Ibid. 

t  Esse  omui  spe  frustrates  quam  in  przefata  Sanctitate  tarn  ingenue 
reposueramtis.  Ibid. 

§  A  fundamento  tarn  levi,  incertaque  statera  pendeat,  ut  in  sempiter- 
nam  ruinam.  Ibid.  p.  IOC. 

Q  Quanto  animi  cruciatu vigilans  dormiensque.     Ibid.  p.  108. 


398          THE  NUNCIO  REFUSES  EVERYTHING. 

give  up  the  so  much  desired  bull.  When  sending  him, 
Rome  had  told  him:  "Above  all,  do  not  succeed!"  This 
means  having  failed,  there  remained  for  Wolsey  one  other 
way  of  effecting  the  divorce.  "  Well,  then,"  he  said  to 
Campeggio,  "  let  us  pronounce  it  ourselves." — "  Far  be  it 
from  us,"  replied  the  nuncio ;  "  the  anger  of  the  emperor 
will  be  so  great,  that  the  peace  of  Europe  will  be  broken  for 
ever." — "  I  know  how  to  arrange  all  that,"  replied  the  Eng- 
lish cardinal,  "  in  political  matters  you  may  trust  to  me."  * 
The  nuncio  then  took  another  tone,  and  proudly  wrapping 
himself  up  in  his  morality,  he  said :  "  I  shall  follow  the  voice 
of  my  conscience;  if  I  see  that  the  divorce  is  possible,  I 
shall  leap  the  ditch ;  if  otherwise,  ...  shall  not." — "  Your  con- 
science !  that  may  be  easily  satisfied,"  rejoined  Wolsey. 
"  Holy  Scripture  forbids  a  man  to  marry  his  brother's  widow ; 
now  no  pope  can  grant  what  is  forbidden  by  the  law  of 
God." — "  The  Lord  preserve  us  from  such  a  principle,"  ex- 
claimed the  Roman  prelate ;  "  the  power  of  the  pope  is  un- 
limited."— The  nuncio  had  hardly  put  his  conscience  forward 
before  it  stumbled ;  it  bound  him  to  Rome  and  not  to 
heaven.  But  for  that  matter,  neither  public  opinion  nor 
Campeggio's  own  friends  had  any  great  idea  of  his  morality ; 
they  thought  that  to  make  him  leap  the  ditch,  it  was  only 
requisite  to  know  the  price  at  which  he  might  be  bought. 
The  bishop  of  Bayonne  wrote  to  Montmorency :  "  Put  at  the 
close  of  a  letter  which  I  can  show  Campeggio  something 

promissory,  that  he  shall  have  benefices That  will  cost 

you  nothing,  and  may  serve  in  this  matter  of  the  marriage ; 
for  I  know  that  he  is  longing  for  something  of  the  sort." — 
"  What  is  to  be  done  then,"  said  Wolsey  at  last,  astonished 
at  meeting  with  a  resistance  to  which  he  was  unaccustomed. 
<l  I  shall  inform  the  pope  of  what  I  have  seen  and  heard," 
icplied  Campeggio,  "and  I  shall  wait  for  his  instructions." 
Henry  was  forced  to  consent  to  this  new  course,  for  the 
nuncio  hinted,  that  if  it  were  opposed  he  would  go  in  person 
to  Rome  to  ask  the  pontiff's  orders,  and  he  never  would  have 
returned.  By  this  means  several  months  were  gained. 
During  this  time  men's  minds  were  troubled.  The  pros- 
"  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.  Lo  Grand,  Preuyes,  p.  266. 


THE  PEOPLE  SUPPORT  CATHERINE.          300 

pect  of  a  divorce  between  the  king  and  queen  had  stirred 
the  nation ;  and  the  majority,  particularly  among  the  women, 
declared  against  the  king.  "  Whatever  may  be  done,"  the 
people  said  boldly,  "  whoever  marries  the  Princess  Mary 
will  be  king  of  England."*  Wolsey's  spies  informed  him 
that  Catherine  and  Charles  V.  had  many  devoted  partisans 
even  at  the  court.  He  wished  to  make  sure  of  this.  "  It  is 
pretended,"  he  said  one  day  in  an  indifferent  tone,  "  that  the 
emperor  has  boasted  that  he  will  get  the  king  driven  from 

his  realm,  and  that  by  his  majesty's  own  subjects "What 

do  you  think  of  it,  my  lords  ?  " — "  Tough  against  the  spur," 
says  Du  Bellay,  the  lords  remained  silent.  At  length,  how- 
ever, one  of  them  more  imprudent  than  the  rest,  exclaimed : 
"  Such  a  boast  will  make  the  emperor  lose  more  than  a 
hundred  thousand  Englishmen."  This  was  enough  for 
"Wolsey.  To  lose  them,  he  thought,  Charles  must  have 
them.  If  Catherine  thought  of  levying  war  against  her 
husband,  following  the  example  of  former  queens  of  Eng- 
land, she  would  have,  then,  a  party  ready  to  support  her ; 
this  became  dangerous. 

The  king  and  the  cardinal  immediately  took  their  meas- 
ures. More  than  15,000  of  Charles's  subjects  were  ordered 
to  leave  London  ;  the  arms  of  the  citizens  were  seized,  "  in 
order  that  they  might  have  no  worse  weapon  than  the 
tongue  ;"f  the  Flemish  councillors  accorded  to  Catherine 
were  dismissed,  after  they  had  been  heard  by  the  king  and 
Campeggio,  "for  they  had  no  commission  to  speak  to  the 
other  [Wolsey]  " — and  finally,  they  kept  "  a  great  and  con- 
stant watch  "  upon  the  country.  Men  feared  an  invasion  of 
England,  and  Henry  was  not  of  a  humour  to  subject  his 
kingdom  to  the  pope. 

This  was  not  enough ;  the  alarmed  king  thought  it  his 
duty  to  come  to  an  explanation  with  his  people ;  and  having 
summoned  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  the  judges,  the 
members  of  the  privy-council,  the  mayor  and  aldermen  of 
the  city,  and  many  of  the  gentry,  to  meet  him  at  his  palace 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency,  8th  November  1528.  Le  Grand, 
Preuves,  p.  204.  t  Ibid.  p.  232, 


400  HENRY'S  SPEECH  TO  THE  LORDS. 

of  Bridewell  on  the  13th  of  November,*  he  said  to  them  with 
a  very  condescending  air :  "  You  know,  my  lords  and  gentle- 
men, that  for  these  twenty  years  past  divine  Providence  has 
granted  our  country  such  prosperity  as  it  had  never  known 
before.  But  in  the  midst  of  all  the  glory  that  surrounds  me, 
the  thought  of  my  last  hour  often  occurs  to  me,-J-  and  I  fear 
that  if  I  should  die  without  an  heir,  my  death  would  cause 
more  damage  to  my  people  than  my  life  has  done  them  good. 
God  forbid,  that  for  want  of  a  legitimate  king  England 
should  be  again  plunged  into  the  horrors  of  civil  war!" 
Then  calling  to  mind  the  illegalities  invalidating  his  mar- 
riage with  Catherine,  the  king  continued :  "  These  thoughts 
have  filled  my  mind  with  anxiety,  and  are  continually  prick- 
ing my  conscience.  This  is  the  only  motive,  and  God  is  my 
witness,  J  which  has  made  me  lay  this  matter  before  the 
pontiff.  As  touching  the  queen,  she  is  a  woman  incompar- 
able in  gentleness,  humility,  and  buxomness,  as  I  these 
twenty  years  have  had  experiment  of;  so  that  if  I  were  to 
marry  again,  if  the  marriage  might  be  good,  I  would  surely 
choose  her  above  all  other  women.  But  if  it  be  determined 
by  judgment  that  our  marriage  was  against  God's  law,  and 
surely  void,  then  I  shall  not  only  sorrow  in  departing  from 
so  good  a  lady  and  loving  companion,  but  much  more  lament 
and  bewail  my  unfortunate  chance,  that  I  have  so  long  lived 
in  adultery,  to  God's  great  displeasure,  and  have  no  true 
heir  of  my  body  to  inherit  this  realm Therefore  I  re- 
quire of  you  all  to  pray  with  us  that  the  very  truth  may 
be  known,  for  the  discharging  of  our  conscience  and  the 
saving  of  our  soul."§  These  words,  though  wanting  in 
sincerity,  were  well  calculated  to  soothe  men's  minds.  Un- 
fortunately, it  appears  that  after  this  speech  from  the  crown, 
the  official  copy  of  which  has  been  preserved,  Henry 
added  a  few  words  of  his  own.  "  If  however,"  he  said,  ac- 

*  This  act  is  dated  Idibus  Novembris.  Wilkins,  Concilia,  iii.  p.  714. 
Herbert  and  Collyer  say  the  8th  November. 

tin  mentem  uua  venit  et  concurrit  mortis  cogitatio.    Ibid. 

J  Hsec  una  res  quod  Deo  teste  et  in  regis  oraculo  affirmamus.  Wilkins, 
Concilia,  iii.  p.  714.  §  Hall,  p.  754. 


COURT  REJOICINGS.  401 

cording  to  Du  Bellay,  casting  a  threatening  glance  around 
him,  "  there  should  be  any  man  whatsoever  who  speaks  of 
his  prince  in  other  than  becoming  terms,  I  will  show  him 
that  I  am  the  master,  and  there  is  no  head  so  high  that  I 
will  not  roll  it  from  his  shoulders."*  This  was  a  speech  in 
Henry's  style ;  but  we  cannot  give  unlimited  credit  to  Du 
Bellay's  assertions,  this  diplomatist  being  very  fond,  like 
others  of  his  class,  of  "  seasoning"  his  despatches.  But 
whatever  may  be  the  fact  as  regards  the  postscript,  the 
speech  on  the  divorce  produced  an  effect.  From  that  time 
there  were  no  more  jests,  not  even  on  the  part  of  the  Boleyns' 
enemies.  Some  supported  the  king,  others  were  content  to 
pity  the  queen  in  secret ;  the  majority  prepared  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  a  court-revolution  which  every  one  foresaw. 
"  The  king  so  plainly  gave  them  to  understand  his  pleasure," 
says  the  French  ambassador,  "  that  they  speak  more  soberly 
than  they  have  done  hitherto." 

Henry  wishing  to  silence  the  clamours  of  the  people,  and 
to  allay  the  fears  felt  by  the  higher  classes,  gave  several 
magnificent  entertainments  at  one  time  in  London,  at  another 
at  Greenwich,  now  at  Hampton  Court,  and  then  at  Rich- 
mond. The  queen  accompanied  him,  but  Anne  generally 
remained  "  in  a  very  handsome  lodging  which  Henry  had 
furnished  for  her,"  says  Du  Bellay.  The  cardinal,  following 
his  master's  example,  gave  representations  of  French  plays 
with  great  magnificence.  All  his  hope  was  in  France.  "  I 
desire  nothing  in  England,  neither  in  word  nor  in  deed,  which 
is  not  French,"f  he  said  to  the  bishop  of  Bayonne.  At 
length  Anne  Boleyn  had  accepted  the  brilliant  position  she 
had  at  first  refused,  and  every  day  her  stately  mansion 
(Suffolk  House)  was  filled  with  a  numerous  court, — "  more 
than  ever  had  crowded  to  the  queen." — "  Yes,  yes,"  said  Du 
Bellay,  as  he  saw  the  crowd  turning  towards  the  rising  sun, 
"  they  wish  by  these  little  things  to  accustom  the  people  to 
endure  her,  that  when  great  ones  are  attempted,  they  may 
not  be  found  so  strange." 

*    Du  Bellay  to   Montmorency,   17th  November  1528.     Le  Grand, 
Preuves,  p.  218. 

t  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency,  1st  January.    Ibid.  p.  268. 
VOL.  v.  18 


402  DU  BELLAY  SOLICITS  CAMPEGGM). 

In  the  midst  of  these  festivities  the  grand  business  did  not 
slumber.  When  the  French  ambassador  solicited  the  sub- 
sidy intended  for  the  ransom  of  the  sons  of  Francis  L,  the 
cardinal  required  of  him  in  exchange  a  paper  proving  that 
the  marriage  had  never  been  valid.  Du  Bellay  excused 
himself  on  the  ground  of  his  age  and  want  of  learning ;  but 
being  given  to  understand  that  he  could  not  have  the  subsidy 
without  it,  he  wrote  the  memoir  in  a  single  day.  The  en- 
raptured cardinal  and  king  entreated  him  to  speak  with  Cam- 
peggio.*  The  ambassador  consented,  and  succeeded  beyond 
all  expectation.  The  nuncio,  fully  aware  that  a  bow  too 
much  bent  will  break,  made  Henry  by  turns  become  the 
sport  of  hope  and  fear.  "  Take  care  how  you  assert  that 
the  pope  had  not  the  right  to  grant  a  dispensation  to  the 
king,"  said  he  to  the  French  bishop ;  "  this  would  be  denying 
his  power,  which  is  infinite.  But,"  added  he  in  a  mysterious 
tone,  "  I  will  point  out  a  road  that  will  infallibly  lead  you 
to  the  mark.  Show  that  the  holy  father  has  been  deceived 
by  false  information.  Push  me  hard  on  that"  he  continued, 
"•  so  as  to  force  me  to  declare  that  the  dispensation  was 
granted  on  erroneous  grounds."f  Thus  did  the  legate  him- 
self reveal  the  breach  by  which  the  fortress  might  be  sur- 
prised. "  Victory!"  exclaimed  Henry,  as  he  entered  Anne's 
apartments  all  beaming  with  joy. 

But  this  confidence  on  the  part  of  Campeggio  was  only  a 
new  trick.  "  There  is  a  great  rumour  at  court,"  wrote  Du 
Bellay  soon  after,  "  that  the  emperor  and  the  king  of  France 
are  coming  together,  and  leaving  Henry  alone,  so  that  all 
will  fall  on  his  shoulders." f  Wolsey,  finding  that  the  in- 
trigues of  diplomacy  had  failed,  thought  it  his  duty  to  put 
fresh  springs  in  motion,  "  and  by  all  good  and  honest  means 
to  gain  the  pope's  favour.  §  He  saw,  besides,  to  his  great 
sorrow,  the  new  catholicity  then  forming  in  the  world,  and 
uniting,  by  the  closest  bonds,  the  Christians  of  England  to 
those  of  the  continent.  To  strike  down  one  of  the  leaders  of 

*  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  2i'0. 

•|-  Poussez-moi  cela  raide.    Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.    Le  Grand, 
Preuves,  p.  217. 
t  Ibid,  p,  219.  §  Ibid.  p.  ?25. 


TRUE  CATHOLICITY.  403 

this  evangelical  movement  might  incline  the  court  of  Rome 
in  Henry's  favour.  The  cardinal  undertook,  thereiore,  to 
persecute  Tyndale;  and  this  resolution  will  now  transport 
us  to  Germany. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

True  Catholicity — Wolsey — Harman's  Matter— West  sent  to  Cologne — 
Labours  of  Tyndale  and  Fryth — Riucke  at  Frankfort — He  makes  a 
Discovery— Tyndale  at  Marburg— West  returns  to  England— His  Tor- 
tures in  the  Monastery. 

THE  residence  of  Tyndale  and  his  friends  in  foreign  countries, 
and  the  connexions  there  formed  with  pious  Christians,  testify 
to  the  fraternal  spirit  which  the  Reformation  then  restored 
to  the  church.  It  is  in  protestantism  that  true  catholicity  is 
to  be  found.  The  Romish  church  is  not  a  catholic  church. 
Separated  from  the  churches  of  the  east,  which  are  the  oldest 
in  Christendom,  and  from  the  reformed  churches,  which  are 
the  purest,  it  is  nothing  but  a  sect,  and  that  a  degenerated 
one.  A  church  which  should  profess  to  believe  in  an  epis- 
copal unity,  but  which  kept  itself  separate  from  the  episco- 
pacy of  Rome  and  of  .the  East,  and  from  the  evangelical 
churches,  would  be  no  longer  a  catholic  church ;  it  would  be 
a  sect  more  sectarian  still  than  that  of  the  Vatican,  a  frag- 
ment of  a  fragment.  The  church  of  the  Saviour  requires  a 
truer,  a  diviner  unity  than  that  of  priests,  who  condemn  one 
another.  It  was  the  reformers,  and  particularly  Tyndale,* 
who  proclaimed  throughout  Christendom  the  existence  of  a 
body  of  Christ,  of  which  all  the  children  of  God  are  members. 
The  disciples  of  the  Reformation  are  the  true  catholics. 

It  was  a  catholicity  of  another  sort  that  Wolsey  desired 
to  uphold.  He  did  not  reject  certain  reforms  in  the  church, 
particularly  such  as  brought  him  any  profit ;  but,  before  all, 
he  wished  to  preserve  for  the  hierarchy  their  privileges  and 
uniformity.  The  Romish  church  in  England  was  then  per- 

*  The  Church  of  Christ  is  the  multitude  of  all  them  that  believe  ia 
Christ,  &c.  Exposition  of  Matthew,  Prologue. 


404  WOLSEY'S  CATHOLICITY. 

sonified  in  him,  and  if  he  fell,  its  ruin  would  be  near.  His 
political  talents  and  multiplied  relations  with  the  continent, 
caused  him  to  discern  more  clearly  than  others  the  dangers 
which  threatened  the  popedom.  The  publication  of  the  Scrip- 
tures of  God  in  English  appeared  to  some  a  cloud  without 
importance,  which  would  soon  disappear  from  the  horizon ;  but 
to  the  foreseeing  glance  of  Wolsey,  it  betokened  a  mighty 
tempest.  Besides,  he  loved  not  the  fraternal  relations  then 
forming  between  the  evangelical  Christians  of  Great  Britain 
and  of  other  nations.  Annoyed  by  this  spiritual  catholicity, 
he  resolved  to  procure  the  arrest  of  Tyndale,  who  was  its 
principal  organ. 

Already  had  Hackett,  Henry's  envoy  to  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, caused  the  imprisonment  of  Harman,  an  Antwerp  mer- 
chant, one  of  the  principal  supporters  of  the  English  reformer. 
But  Hackett  had  in  vain  asked  Wolsey  for  such  documents  as 
would  convict  him  of  treason  (for  the  crime  of  loving  the  Bible 
was  not  sufficient  to  procure  Harman's  condemnation  in  Bra- 
bant) ;  the  envoy  had  remained  without  letters  from  England, 
and  the  last  term  fixed  by  the  law  having  expired,  Harman 
and  his  wife  were  liberated  after  seven  months'  imprisonment. 

And  yet  Wolsey  had  not  been  inactive.  The  cardinal 
hoped  to  find  elsewhere  the  co-operation  which  Margaret  of 
Austria  refused.  It  was  Tyndale  that  he  wanted,  and  every- 
thing seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was  then  hidden  at  Cologne 
or  in  its  neighbourhood.  Wolsey,  recollecting  senator  Rincke 
and  the  services  he  had  already  performed,  determined  to  send 
to  him  one  John  West,  a  friar  of  the  Franciscan  convent  at 
Greenwich.  West,  a  somewhat  narrow-minded  but  ener- 
getic man,  was  very  desirous  of  distinguishing  himself,  and 
he  had  already  gained  some  notoriety  in  England  among  the 
adversaries  of  the  Reformation.  Flattered  by  his  mission, 
this  vain  monk  immediately  set  off  for  Antwerp,  accompanied 
by  another  friar,  in  order  to  seize  Tyndale,  and  even  Roy, 
once  his  colleague  at  Greenwich,  and  against  whom  he  had 
there  ineffectually  contended  in  argument. 

While  these  men  were  conspiring  his  ruin,  Tyndale  com- 
posed several  works,  got  them  printed,  and  sent  to  England, 
and  prayed  God  night  and  day  to  enlighten  his  fellow  coun- 


MISSION  TO  SEIZE  TYNDALE.  405 

trymen.  "  Why  do  you  give  yourself  so  much  trouble  ?"  said 
some  of  his  friends.  "  They  will  burn  your  books  as  they 
have  burnt  the  Gospel." — "  They  will  only  do  what  I  expect," 
replied  he,  "  if  they  burn  me  also."  Already  he  beheld  his 
own  burning  pile  in  the  distance ;  but  it  was  a  sight  which 
only  served  to  increase  his  zeal.  Hidden,  like  Luther  at  the 
Wartburg,  not  however  in  a  castle,  but  in  a  humble  lodging, 
Tyndale,  like  the  Saxon  reformer,  spent  his  days  and  nights 
translating  the  Bible.  But  not  having  an  elector  of  Saxony 
to  protect  him,  he  was  forced  to  change  his  residence  from 
time  to  time. 

At  this  epoch,  Fryth,  who  had  escaped  from  the  prisons 
of  Oxford,  rejoined  Tyndale,  and  the  sweets  of  friendship 
softened  the  bitterness  of  their  exile.  Tyndale  having  finished 
the  New  Testament,  and  begun  the  translation  of  the  Old, 
the  learned  Fryth  was  of  great  use  to  him.  The  mbre  they 
studied  the  word  of  God,  the  more  they  admired  it.  In  the 
beginning  of  1529,  they  published  the  books  of  Genesis  and 
Deuteronomy,  and  addressing  their  fellow-countrymen,  they 
said :  "  As  thou  readest,  think  that  every  syllable  pertaineth 
to  thine  own  self,  and  suck  out  the  pith  of  the  Scripture."* 
Then  denying  that  visible  signs  naturally  impart  grace,  as 
the  schoolmen  had  pretended,  Tyndale  maintained  that  the 
sacraments  are  effectual  only  when  the  Holy  Ghost  sheds 
his  influence  upon  them.  "  The  ceremonies  of  the  law,"  he 
wrote,  "  stood  the  Israelites  in  the  same  stead  as  the  sacra- 
ments do  us.  We  are  saved  not  by  the  power  of  the  sacrifice 
or  the  deed  itself,  but  by  virtue  of  faith  in  the  promise, 
whereof  the  sacrifice  or  ceremony  was  a  token  or  sign.  The 
Holy  Ghost  is  no  dumb  God,  ho  God  that'goeth  a-mum- 
ming.  Wherever  the  word  is  proclaimed,  this  inward  wit- 
ness worketh.  If  baptism  preach  me  the  washing  in  Christ's 
blood,  so  doth  the  Holy  Ghost  accompany  it ;  and  that  deed 
of  preaching  through  faith  doth  put  away  my  sins.  The 
ark  of  Noah  saved  them  in  the  water  through  faith."-j- 

The  man  who  dared  address  England  in  language  so  con- 
trary to  the  teaching  of  the  middle  ages  must  be  imprisoned. 

*  Prologue  to  the  Book  of  Genesis  (Doctr.  Tr.)  p.  400. 

t  Prologue  to  the  Book  of  Leviticus  (Doctr.  Tr.*  p.  423, 424, 428. 


406  TYNDALE  SOUGHT  AT  FHANKFORT. 

John  "West,  who  had  been  sent  with  this  object,  arrived  at 
Antwerp ;  Hackett  procured  for  him  as  interpreter  a  friar  of 
English  descent,  made  him  assume  a  secular  dress,  and  gave 
him  "  three  pounds  "  on  the  cardinal's  account ;  the  less 
attention  the  embassy  attracted,  the  more  likely  it  would  be 
to  succeed.  But  great  was  West's  vexation,  on  reaching 
Cologne,  to  learn  that  Rincke  was  at  Frankfort.  But  that 
mattered  not ;  the  Greenwich  monk  could  search  for  Tyndale 
at  Cologne,  and  desire  Rincke  to  do  the  same  at  Frankfort ; 
thus  there  would  be  two  searches  instead  of  one.  "West 
procured  a  "  swift"  messenger,  (he  too  was  a  monk,)  and 
gave  him  the  letter  "Wolsey  had  addressed  to  Rincke. 

It  was  fair-time  at  Frankfort,  and  the  city  was  filled  with 
merchants  and  their  wares.  As  soon  as  Rincke  had  finished 
reading  Wolsey's  letter,  he  hastened  to  the  burgomasters, 
and  required  them  to  confiscate  the  English  translations  of 
the  Scriptures,  and,  above  all,  to  seize  "  the  heretic  who  was 
troubling  England  as  Luther  troubled  Germany."  "  Tyn- 
dale and  his  friends  have  not  appeared  in  our  fairs  since  the 
month  of  March  1528,"  replied  the  magistrates,  "  and  we 
know  not  whether  they  are  dead  or  alive." 

Rincke  was  not  discouraged.  John  Schoot  of  Strasburg, 
who  was  said  to  have  printed  Tyndale's  books,  and  who 
cared  less  about  the  works  he  published  than  the  money  he 
drew  from  them,  happened  to  be  at  Frankfort.  "  Where  is 
Tyndale?"  Rincke  asked  him.  "  I  do  not  know,"  replied 
the  printer ;  but  he  confessed  that  he  had  printed  a  thousand 
volumes  at  the  request  of  Tyndale  and  Roy.  "  Bring  them 
to  me,"  continued  the  senator  of  Cologne. — "  If  a  fair  price  is 
paid  me,  I  will  give  them  up  to  you."  Rincke  paid  all  that 
was  demanded. 

Wolsey  would  now  be  gratified,  for  the  New  Testament 
annoyed  him  almost  as  much  as  the  divorce ;  this  book,  so 
dangerous  in  his  eyes,  seemed  on  the  point  of  raising  a  con- 
flagration which  would  infallibly  consume  the  edifice  of  Ro- 
man traditionalism.  Rincke,  who  participated  in  his  patron's 
fears,  impatiently  opened  the  volumes  made  over  to  him ; 
but  there  was  a  sad  mistake,  they  were  not  the  New  Testa- 
ment, not  even  a  work  of  Tyndale's,  but  one  written  by 


»  RINCKE'S  MISTAKE.  407 

am  Roy,  a  changeable  and  violent  man,  whom  the 
reformer  had  employed  for  some  time  at  Hamburg,  and  who 
had  followed  him  to  Cologne,  but  with  whom  he  had  soon 
become  disgusted.  "  I  bade  him  farewell  for  our  two  lives/' 
said  Tyndale,  "  and  a  day  longer."  Roy,  on  quitting  the 
reformer,  had  gone  to  Strasburg,  where  he  boasted  of  his 
relations  with  him,  and  had  got  printed  in  that  city  a  satire 
against  Wolsey  and  the  monastic  orders,  entitled  the  Burial 
of  the  Mass  :  this  was  the  book  delivered  to  Rincke.  The 
monk's  sarcastic  spirit  had  exceeded  the  legitimate  bounds 
of  controversy,  and  the  senator  accordingly  dared  not  send 
the  volumes  to  England.  He  did  not  however  discontinue 
his  inquiries,  but  searched  every  place  where  he  thought  he 
could  discover  the  New  Testament,  and  having  seized  all 
the  suspected  volumes,  set  off  for  Cologne.* 

Yet  he  was  not  satisfied.  He  wanted  Tyndale,  and  went 
about  asking  every  one  if  they  knew  where  to  find  himr 
But  the  reformer,  whom  he  was  seeking  in  so  many  places, 
and  especially  at  Frankfort  and  Cologne,  chanced  to  be  resid- 
ing at  about  equal  distances  from  these  two  towns;  so  that 
Rincke,  while  travelling  from  one  to  the  other,  might  have 
met  him  face  to  face,  as  Ahab's  messenger  met  Elijah.-}- 
Tyndale  was  at  Marburg,  whither  he  had  been  drawn  by 
several  motives.  Prince  Philip  of  Hesse  was  the  great  pro- 
tector of  the  evangelical  doctrines.  The  university  had  at- 
tracted attention  in  the  Reform  by  the  paradoxes  of  Lam- 
bert of  Avignon.  Here  a  young  Scotsman  named  Hamil- 
ton, afterwards  illustrious  as  a  martyr,  had  studied  shortly 
before,  and  here  too  the  celebrated  printer,  John  Luft,  had 
his  presses.  In  this  city  Tyndale  and  Fryth  had  taken  up 
their  abode,  in  September  1528,  and,  hidden  on  the  quiet 
banks  of  the  Lahn,  were  translating  the  Old  Testament.  If 
Rincke  had  searched  this  place  he  could  not  have  failed  to 
discover  them.  But  either  he  thought  not  of  it,  or  was 
afraid  of  the  terrible  landgrave.  The  direct  road  by  the 
Rhine  was  that  which  he  followed,  and  Tyndale  escaped. 

•  Anderson,  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  203  :  "  I  gathered  together  and 
packed  up  all  the  books  from  every  quarter  " 
+  1  Kincs  xviii.  7. 


408  WEST'S  ANNOYANCES. 

When  he  arrived  at  Cologne,  Rincke  had  an  immediate 
interview  with  West.  Their  investigations  having  failed, 
they  must  have  recourse  to  more  vigorous  measures.  The 
senator,  therefore,  sent  the  monk  back  to  England,  accompa- 
nied by  his  son  Hermann,  charging  them  to  tell  Wolsey : 
*'  To  seize  Tyndale  we  require  fuller  powers,  ratified  by  the 
emperor.  The  traitors  who  conspire  against  the  life  of  the 
king  of  England  are  hot  tolerated  in  the  empire,  much  less 
Tyndale  and  all  those  who  conspire  against  Christendom. 
He  must  be  put  to  death ;  nothing  but  some  striking  ex- 
ample can  check  the  Lutheran  heresy. — And  as  to  ourselves," 
they  were  told  to  add,  "  by  the  favour  of  God  there  may 
possibly  be  an  opportunity  for  his  royal  highness  and  your 
grace  to  recompense  us."*  Rincke  had  not  forgotten  the 
subsidy  of  ten  thousand  pounds  which  he  had  received  from 
Henry  VII.  for  the  Turkish  war,  when  he  had  gone  to  Lon- 
don as  Maximilian's  envoy. 

West  returned  to  England  sorely  vexed  that  he  had  failed 
in  his  mission.  What  would  they  say  at  court  and  in  his 
monastery  ?  A  fresh  humiliation  was  in  reserve  for  him. 
Roy,  whom  West  had  gone  to  look  for  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  had  paid  a  visit  to  his  mother  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames ;  and  to  crown  all,  the  new  doctrines  had  penetrated 
into  his  own  convent.  The  warden,  Father  Robinson,  had 
embraced  them,  and  night  and  day  the  Greenwich  monks 
read  that  New  Testament  which  West  had  gone  to  Cologne 
to  burn.  The  Antwerp  friar,  who  had  accompanied  him  on 
his  journey,  was  the  only  person  to  whom  he  could  confide 
his  sorrows ;  but  the  Franciscans  sent  him  back  again  to 
the  continent,  and  then  amused  themselves  at  poor  West's 
expense.  If  he  desired  to  tell  of  his  adventures  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine,  he  was  laughed  at ;  if  he  boasted  of  the 
names  of  Wolsey  and  Henry  VIIL,  they  jeered  him  still 
more.  He  desired  to  speak  to  Roy's  mother,  hoping  to  gain 
some  useful  information  from  her ;  this  the  monks  prevented. 
"  It  is  in  my  commission,"  he  said.  They  ridiculed  him  more 
and  more.  Robinson,  perceiving  that  the  commission  made 
West  assume  unbecoming  airs  of  independence,  requested 

•  Cotton  MSS.,  Vitellius,  B.  xzi.  fol,  43.    Bible  Annals,  i.  p.  204. 


NECESSITY  OF  THE  REFORMATION.  409 

Wolsey  to  withdraw  it ;  and  "West,  fancying  he  was  about  to 
be  thrown  into  prison,  exclaimed  in  alarm :  "  I  am  weary  of 
my  life ! "  and  conjured  a  friend  whom  he  had  at  court  to 
procure  him  before  Christmas  an  obedience  under  his  lord- 
ship's hand  and  seal,  enabling  him  to  leave  the  monastery : 
"  What  you  pay  him  for  it,"  he  added,  "  I  shall  see  you  be  re- 
imbursed." Thus  did  West  expiate  the  fanatical  zeal  which 
had  urged  him  to  pursue  the  translator  of  the  oracles  of  God. 
What  became  of  him,  we  know  not :  he  is  never  heard  of 
more. 

At  that  time  Wolsey  had  other  matters  to  engage  him 
than  this  "  obedience."  While  West's  complaints  were 
going  to  London,  those  of  the  king  were  travelling  to  Rome. 
The  great  business  in  the  cardinal's  eyes  was  to  maintain 
harmony  between  Henry  and  the  church.  There  was  no  more 
thought  about  investigations  in  Germany,  and  for  a  time 
Tyndale  was  saved. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Necessity  of  the  Reformation — Wolsey's  Earnestness  with  Da  Casale — 
An  Audience  with  Clement  VII.— Cruel  Position  of  the  Pope— A  Judas 
Kiss — A  new  Brief— Bryan  and  Vannes  sent  to  Rome — Henry  and  Du 
Bellay — Wolsey's  Reasons  against  the  Brief— Excitement  in  London- 
Metamorphosis— Wolsey's  Decline — His  Anguish. 

THE  king  and  a  part  of  his  people  still  adhered  to  the  pope- 
dom,  and  so  long  as  these  bonds  were  not  broken  the  word 
of  God  could  not  have  free  course.  But  to  induce  England 
to  renounce  Rome,  there  must  indeed  be  powerful  motives : 
and  these  were  not  wanting. 

Wolsey  had  never  given  such  pressing  orders  to  any  of 
Henry's  ambassadors  :  "  The  king,"  he  wrote  to  Da  Casale 
on  the  1st  of  November  1528,  "  commits  this  business  to 
your  prudence,  dexterity,  and  fidelity ;  and  I  conjure  yoil  to 
employ  all  the  powers  of  your  genius,  and  even  to  surpass 
them.  Be  very  sure  that  you  have  done  nothing  and  can 
18*  g 


410  CASALE'S  AUDIENCE  WITH  CLEMENT. 

do  nothing  that  will  be  more  agreeable  to  the  king,  more 
desirable  by  me,  and  more  useful  and  glorious  for  you  and 
your  family."  * 

Da  Casale  possessed  a  tenacity  which  justified  the  cardi- 
nal's confidence,  and  an  active  excitable  mind  :  trembling  at 
the  thought  of  seeing  Rome  lose  England,  he  immediately 
requested  an  audience  of  Clement  VII.  "  What  I "  said  he 
to  the  pope,  "  just  as  it  was  proposed  to  go  on  with  the 

divorce,  your  nuncio  endeavours  to  dissuade  the  king! 

There  is  no  hope  that  Catherine  of  Aragon  will  ever  give  an 
heir  to  the  crown.  Holy  father,  there  must  be  an  end  of 
this.  Order  Campeggio  to  place  the  decretal  in  his  majesty's 
hands." — "  What  say  you  ?  "  exclaimed  the  pope.  "  I  would 
gladly  lose  one  of  my  fingers  to  recover  it  again,  and  you 

ask  me  to  make  it  public it  would  be  my  ruin."f     Da 

Casale  insisted :  "  We  have  a  duty  to  perform,"  he  said ; 
rt  we  remind  you  at  this  last  hour  of  the  perils  threatening 
the  relations  which  unite  Rome  and  England.  The  crisis  is 
at  hand.  We  knock  at  your  door,  we  cry,  we  urge,  we  en- 
treat, we  lay  before  you  the  present  and  future  dangers 

which  threaten  the  papacy.  J The  world  shall  know  that 

the  king  at  least  has  fulfilled  the  duty  of  a  devoted  son  of 
the  church.  If  your  holiness  desires  to  keep  England  in  St 

Peter's  fold,  I  repeat now  is  the  time now  is  the 

time."  §  At  these  words,  Da  Casale,  unable  to  restrain  his 
emotion,  fell  down  at  the  pope's  feet,  and  begged  him  to  save 
the  church  in  Great  Britain.  The  pope  was  moved.  "  Rise," 
said  he,  with  marks  of  unwonted  grief,  ||  "  I  grant  you  all 
that  is  in  my  power ;  I  am  willing  to  confirm  the  judgment 
which  the  legates  may  think  it  their  duty  to  pass  ;  but  I  ac- 
quit myself  of  all  responsibility  as  to  the  untold  evils  which 
this  matter  may  bring  with  it If  the  king,  after  having 

*  Vobis  vestraeque  familiae  utilius  aut  hpnorificentius.  State  Papers, 
vii.  p.  1 14. 

t  Burnet,  Records,  ii.  p.  20.    Unius  digiti  jactura quod  factum  fuit 

revocarem. 

J  Admonere,  exclamare,  rogare,  instare,  urgere,  pulsate,  pericula  prae 
sentia  et  futura  demonstrate.  State  Papers,  yii.  p.  112. 

§  Tempus  jam  in  promptu  adest.    Ibid. 

!!  Burnet's  Ref.  i.  p.  44.    Records,  p.  xx. 


CAMP  AN  AS  MISSION.  4 11 

defended  the  faith  and  the  church,  desires  to  ruin  both,  on 
him  alone  will  rest  the  responsibility  of  so  great  a  disaster." 
Clement  granted  nothing.  Da  Casale  withdrew  disheartened, 
and  feeling  convinced  that  the  pontiff  was  about  to  treat  with 
Charles  V. 

Wolsey  desired  to  save  the  popedom ;  but  the  popedom 
resisted.  Clement  VII.  was  about  to  lose  that  island  which 
Gregory  the  Great  had  won  with  such  difficulty.  Toe  pope 
was  in  the  most  cruel  position.  The  English  envoy  had 
hardly  left  the  palace  before  the  emperor's  ambassador  en- 
tered breathing  threats.  The  unhappy  pontiff  escaped  the 
assaults  of  Henry  only  to  be  exposed  to  those  of  Charles  ; 
he  was  thrown  backwards  and  forwards  like  a  ball.  "  I 
shall  assemble  a  general  council,"  said  the  emperor  through 
his  ambassador,  "  and  if  you  are  found  to  have  infringed 
the  canons  of  the  church  in  any  point,  you  shall  be  pro- 
ceeded against  with  every  rigour.  Do  not  forget,"  added  his 
agent  in  a  low  tone,  "  that  your  birth  is  illegitimate,  and 
consequently  excludes  you  from  the  pontificate."  The  timid 
Clement,  imagining  that  he  saw  the  tiara  falling  from  his 
head,  swore  to  refuse  Henry  everything.  "  Alas ! "  he  said 
to  one  of  his  dearest  confidants,  "  I  repent  in  dust  and  ashes 
that  I  ever  granted  this  decretal  bull.  If  the  king  of  Eng- 
land so  earnestly  desires  it  to  be  given  him,  certainly  it  can- 
not be  merely  to  know  its  contents.  He  is  but  too  familiar 
with  them.  It  is  only  to  tie  my  hands  in  this  matter  of  the 
divorce ;  I  would  rather  die  a  thousand  deaths."  Clement, 
to  calm  his  agitation,  sent  one  of  his  ablest  gentlemen  of  the 
bed-chamber,  Francis  Campana,  apparently  to  feed  the  king 
with  fresh  promises,  but  in  reality  to  cut  the  only  thread  on 
which  Henry's  hopes  still  hung.  "  We  embrace  your  ma- 
jesty," wrote  the  pope  in  the  letter  given  to  Campana,  "  with 
the  paternal  love  your  numerous  merits  deserve."  *  Now 
Campana  was  sent  to  England  to  burn  clandestinely  the 
famous  decretal ;  7  Clement  concealed  his  blows  by  an  em- 

*  Nos  ilium  paterna  charitate  complccti,  ut  sua  erga  nos  atque  hanc 
sedem  plurirna  merita  requirunt.  State  Papers,  vii.  116. 

t  To  charge  Campegius  to  burn  the  decretal.  Herbert,  p.  250.  Bur- 
net's  Ref.  i.  47. 


412  SECRET  BEIEF  OF  JULIUS  II. 

brace.  Rome  had  granted  many  divorces  not  so  well  founded 
as  that  of  Henry  VIII. ;  ,but  a  very  different  matter  from  a 
divorce  was  in  question  here ;  the  pope,  desirous  of  uprais- 
ing in  Italy  his  shattered  power,  was  about  to  sacrifice  the 
Tudor,  and  to  prepare  the  triumph  of  the  Reformation. 
Rome  was  separating  herself  from  England. 

All  Clement's  fear  was,  that  Campuna  would  arrive  too 
late  to  burn  the  bull;  he  was  soon  reassured;  a  dead  calm 
prevented  the  great  matter  from  advancing.  Campeggio, 
who  took  care  to  be  in  no  hurry  about  his  mission,  gave 
himself  up,  like  a  skilful  diplomatist,  to  his  worldly  tastes; 
and  when  he  could  not,  due  respect  being  had  to  the  state 
of  his  legs,  indulge  in  the  chase,  of  which  he  was  very  fond, 
he  passed  his  time  in  gambling,  to  which  he  was  much 
addicted.  Respectable  historians  assert  that  he  indulged  in 
still  more  illicit  pleasures.*  But  this  could  not  last  for  ever, 
and  the  nuncio  sought  some  new  means  of  delay,  which 
offered  itself  in  the  most  unexpected  manner.  One  day  an 
officer  of  the  queen's  presented  to  the  Roman  legate  a  brief 
of  Julius  II.,  bearing  the  same  date  as  the  bull  of  dispensa- 
tion, signed  too,  like  that,  by  the  secretary  Sigismond,  and 
in  which  the  pope  expressed  himself  in  such  a  manner,  that 
Henry's  objections  fell  of  themselves.  "  The  emperor,"  said 
Catherine's  messenger,  "  has  discovered  this  brief  among  the 
papers  of  Puebla,  the  Spanish  ambassador  in  England,  at 
the  time  of  the  marriage." — "  It  is  impossible  to  go  on,"  said 
Campeggio  to  Wolsey;  "all  your  reasoning  is  now  cut  from 
under  you.  We  must  wait  for  fresh  instructions."  This  was 
the  cardinal's  conclusion  at  every  new  incident,  and  the  jour- 
ney from  London  to  the  Vatican  being  very  long  (without 
reckoning  the  Roman  dilatoriness),  the  expedient  was  in- 
fallible. 

Thus  there  existed  two  acts  of  the  same  pope,  signed  on  the 
same  day — the  one  secret,  the  other  public,  in  contradiction 
to  each  other.  Henry  determined  to  send  a  new  mission  to 
Rome.  Anne  proposed  for  this  embassy  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  gentlemen  of  the  court,  her  cousin,  Sir  Francis 

*  Hunting  and  gaming  all  the  day  long,  and  following  harlots  all  the 
night.  Burnet,  i.  p.  52. 


TWO  WIVES  PROPOSED  FOB  HENRY.  413 

Bryan.  With  him  was  joined  an  Italian,  Peter  Vannes, 
Henry's  Latin  secretary.  "  You  will  search  all  the  registers 
of  the  time  of  Julius  II.,"  said  Wolsey  to  them;  "you  will 
study  the  handwriting  of  Secretary  Sigismond,  and  you  will 
attentively  examine  the  ring  of  the  fisherman  used  by  that 
pontiff.* — Moreover,  you  will  inform  the  pope  that  it  is  pro- 
posed to  set  a  certain  greyfriar,  named  De  Angelis,  in  his  place, 
to  whom  Charles  would  give  the  spiritual  authority,  reserving 
the  temporal  for  himself.  You  will  manage  so  that  Clement 
takes  alarm  at  the  project,  and  you  will  then  offer  him  a 
guard  of  2000  men  to  protect  him.  You  will  ask  whether, 
in  case  the  queen  should  desire  to  embrace  a  religious  life, 
on  condition  of  the  king's  doing  the  same,  and  Henry 
should  yield  to  this  wish,f  he  could  have  the  assurance  that 
the  pope  would  afterwards  release  him  from  his  vows. 
And,  finally,  you  will  inquire  whether,  in  case  the  queen 
should  refuse  to  enter  a  convent,  the  pope  would  permit  the 
king  to  have  two  wives,  as  we  see  in  the  Old  Testament.":}: 
Tbo  idea  which  has  brought  so  much  reproach  on  the  land- 
grave of  Hesse  was  not  a  new  one;  the  honour  of  it  belongs 
to  a  cardinal  and  legate  of  Rome,  whatever  Bossuet  may 
say.  "  Lastly,"  continued  Wolsey,  "  as  the  pope  is  of  a 
timid  disposition,  you  will  not  fail  to  season  your  remon- 
strances with  threats.  You,  Peter,  will  take  Kim  aside  and 
tell  him  that,  as  an  Italian,  having  more  at  heart  than  any 
one  the  glory  of  the  holy  se'e,  it  is  your  duty  to  warn  him, 
that  if  he  persists,  the  king,  his  realm,  and  many  other 
princes,  will  for  ever  separate  from  the  papacy." 

It  was  not  on  the  mind  of  the  pope  alone  that  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  act;   the  rumour  that  the  emperor  and  the  king 
of  France  were  treating  together  disturbed  Henry.    Wolsey 
ad  vainly  tried  to  sound  Du  Bellay;  these  two  priests  tried 
craft  against  craft.    Besides,  the  Frenchman  was  not  always 


*  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  126,  note. 

t  Only  thereby  to  conduce  the  queen  thereunto.    Ibid.  p.  136,  note. 

£  De  dnabus  uxoribns.  Henry's  Instructions  to  Knight,  in  the  middle 
of  December  1 528.  Ibid,  p  137.  Some  great  reasons  and  precedents  of 
the  Old  Testament  appear,  'astructions  to  same,  1st  Dec.  Ibid.  p.  136, 
note. 


414  HENRY'S  CONFERENCE  WITH  DU  BELLA Y. 

seasonably  informed  by  his  court,  letters  taking  ten  days  to 
come  from  Paris  to  London.*  Henry  resolved  to  have  a 
conference  with  the  ambassador.  He  began  by  speaking  to 
him  of  his  matter,  says  Du  Bellay,  "  and  I  promise  you,"  ho 
added,  "  that  he  needs  no  advocate,  he  understands  the 
whole  business  so  well."  Henry  next  touched  upon  the 
wrongs  of  Francis  I.,  "  recalling  so  many  things  that  the 
envoy  knew  not  what  to  say." — "  I  pray  you,  Master  Am- 
bassador," said  Henry  in  conclusion,  "  to  beg  the  king,  my 
brother,  to  give  up  a  little  of  his  amusements  during  a  year 
only  for  the  prompt  despatch  of  his  affairs.  Warn  those 
whom  it  concerns."  Having  given  this  spur  to  the  king  of 
France,  Henry  turned  his  thoughts  towards  Rome. 

In  truth,  the  fatal  brief  from  Spain  tormented  him  day  and 
nighj,  and  the  cardinal  tortured  his  mind  to  find  proofs  of 
its  non-authenticity;  if  he  could  do  so,  he  would  acquit  the 
papacy  of  the  charge  of  duplicity,  and  accuse  the  emperor  of 
forgery.  At  last  he  thought  he  had  succeeded.  "  In  the 
first  place,"  he  said  to  the  king,  "  the  brief  has  the  same 
date  as  the  bull.  Now,  if  the  errors  in  the  latter  had  been 
found  out  on  the  day  it  was  drawn  up,  it  would  have  been 
more  natural  to  make  another  than  to  append  a  brief  point- 
ing out  the  eiTors.  What !  the  same  pope,  the  same  day, 
at  the  petition  of  the  same  persons,  give  out  two  rescripts 
for  one  effect,-f-  one  of  which  contradicts  the  other !  Either 
the  bull  was  good,  and  then,  why  the  brief?  or  the  bull  was 
bad,  and  then,  why  deceive  princes  by  a  worthless  bull? 
Many  names  are  found  in  the  brief  incorrectly  spelt,  and 
these  are  faults  which  the  pontifical  secretary,  whose  accu- 
racy is  so  well  known,  could  not  have  committed.}:  Lastly, 
no  one  in  England  ever  heard  mention  of  this  brief;  and  yet 
it  is  here  that  it  ought  to  be  found."  Henry  charged  Knight, 
his  principal  secretary,  to  join  the  other  envoys  with  all 

*  La  dite  lettre  du  roi,  combien  qu'elle  fut  du  3,  je  1'ai  reyue  sinon  le 
13  ;  le  pareil  m'advint  quasi  de  toutes  autres.  Du  Bellay  to  Montmor- 
ency,  20  Dec.  Le  Grand,  Preuves. 

t  State  Papers,  vol.  vii.  p.  130. 

£  Queen  Isabella  was  called  Elizabeth  in  the  brief ;  but  I  have  seen  a 
document  from  the  court  of  Madrid  in  which  Queen  Elizabeth  of  England 
wag  called  Isabella  ;  it  is  not  therefore  an  error  without  a  parallel. 


CHARLES  V.  TRIUMPHS.  415 

speed,  in  order  to  prove  to  the  pope  the  supposititious  char- 
acter of  the  document. 

This  important  paper  revived  the  irritation  felt  in  England 
against  Charles  V.,  and  it  was  resolved  to  come  to  extremi- 
ties. Every  one  discontented  with  Austria  took  refuge  in 
London,  particularly  the  Hungarians.  The  ambassador 
from  Hungary  proposed  to  Wolsey  to  adjudge  the  imperial 
crown  of  Germany  to  the  elector  of  Saxony  or  the  landgrave 
of  Hesse,  the  two  chiefs  of  protestantism.*  Wolsey  ex- 
claimed in  alarm:  "It  will  be  an  inconvenience  to  Christen- 
dom, they  are  so  Lutheran."  But  the  Hungarian  ambassa- 
dor so  satisfied  him,  that  in  the  end  he  did  not  find  the 
matter  quite  so  inconvenient.  These  schemes  were  pros- 
pering in  London,  when  suddenly  a  new  metamorphosis 
took  place  under  the  eyes  of  Du  Bellay.  The  king,  the 
cardinal,  and  the  ministers  appeared  in  strange  consterna- 
tion. Vincent  da  Casale  had  just  arrived  from  Rome  with 
a  letter  from  his  cousin  the  prothonotary,  informing  Henry 
that  the  pope,  seeing  the  triumph  of  Charles  V.,  the  inde- 
cision of  Francis  I.,  the  isolation  of  the  king  of  England,  and 
the  distress  of  his  cardinal,  had  flung  himself  into  the  arms 
of  the  emperor.  At  Rome  they  went  so  far  as  to  jest  about 
Wolsey,  and  to  say  that  since  he  could  not  be  St  Peter  they 
would  make  him  St  Paul. 

While  they  were  ridiculing  Wolsey  at  Rome,  at  St  Ger- 
main's they  were  joking  about  Henry.  "  I  will  make  him 
get  rid  of  the  notions  he  has  in  his  head,"  said  Francis ;  and 
the  Flemings,  who  were  again  sent  out  of  the  country,  said 
as  they  left  London,  "  that  this  year  they  would  carry  on 
the  war  so  vigorously,  that  it  would  be  really  a  sight  worth 
seeing." 

Besides  these  public  griefs,  Wolsey  had  his  private  ones. 
Anne  Boleyn,  who  had  already  begun  to  use  her  influence 
on  behalf  of  the  despotic  cardinal's  victims,  gave  herself  no 
rest  until  Cheyney,  a  courtier  disgraced  by  Wolsey,  had  been 
restored  to  the  king's  favour.  Anne  even  gave  utterance  to 
several  biting  sarcasms  against  the  cardinal,  and  the  duke 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency,  12  Jan.  1529.  Le  Grand,  PreuTas,  p. 
279. 


416  WOLSEY'S  TROUBLE. 

of  Norfolk  and  his  party  began  "  to  speak  big,"  says  Du 
Bellay.  At  the  moment  when  the  pope,  scared  by  Charles 
V.,  was  separating  from  England,  Wolsey  himself  was  tot- 
tering. Who  shall  uphold  the  papacy? After  Wolsey, 

nobody!  Rome  was  on  the  point  of  losing  the  power  which 
for  nine  centuries  she  had  exercised  in  the  bosom  of  this 
illustrious  nation.  The  cardinal's  anguish  cannot  be  de- 
scribed; unceasingly  pursued  by  gloomy  images,  he  saw 
Anne  on  the  throne  causing,  the  triumph  of  the  Reformation: 
this  nightmare  was  stifling  him.  "  His  grace,  the  legate,  is 
in  great  trouble,"  wrote  the  bishop  of  Bayonne.  "  However 

he  is  more  cunning  than  they  are."* 

To  still  the  tempest  Wolsey  had  only  one  resource  left : 
this  was  to  render  Clement  favourable  to  his  master's  de- 
signs. The  crafty  Campana,  who  had  burnt  the  decretal, 
conjured  him  not  to  believe  all  the  reports  transmitted  to 
him  concerning  Rome.  "  To  satisfy  the  king,"  said  he  to 
the  cardinal,  "  the  holy  father  will,  if  necessary,  descend  from 
the  pontifical  throne."f  Wolsey  therefore  resolved  to  send 
to  Rome  a  more  energetic  agent  than  Vannes,  Bryan,  or 
Knight,  and  cast  his  eyes  on  Gardiner.  His  courage  began 
to  revive,  when  an  unexpected  event  fanned  once  more  his 
loftiest  hopes. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Pope's  Illness — Wolsey's  Desire— Conference  about  the  Members  of 
the  Conclave — Wolsey's  Instructions — The  Pope  recovers — Speech  of 
the  English  Envoys  to  the  Pope— Clement  willing  to  abandon  England 
— The  English  demand  the  Pope's  Denial  of  the  Brief — Wolsey's  Alarm 
— Intrigues— Bryan's  Clearsightedness — Henry's  Threats— Wolsey's 
new  Efforts— He  calls  for  an  Appeal  to  Rome,  and  retracts — Wolsey 
and  Du  Bellay  at  Richmond — The  Ship  of  the  State. 

ON  the  6th  of  January  1529,  the  feast  of  Epiphany,  just  as 
the  pope  was  performing  mass,  he  was  attacked  by  a  sudden 

*  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  295,  296 
t  Burnet,  Hist.  R«f.  vol.  i.  p.  60 


THE  POPE'S  ILLNESS GARDINER'S  MISSION.  417 

illness;  he  was  taken  to  his  room,  apparently  in  a  dying 
state.  When  this  news  reached  London,  the  cardinal  re- 
solved to  hasten  to  abandon  England,  where  the  soil  trem- 
bled under  his  feet,  and  to  climb  boldly  to  the  throne  of  the 
pontiffs.  Bryan  and  Vannes,  then  at  Florence,  hurried  on 
to  Rome  through  roads  infested  with  robbers.  At  Orvieto 
they  were  informed  the  pope  was  better ;  at  Yiterbo,  no  one 
knew  whether  he  was  alive  or  dead ;  at  Ronciglione,  they  were 
assured  that  he  had  expired ;  and,  finally,  when  they  reached 
the  metropolis  of  the  popedom,  they  learnt  that  Clement  could 
not  survive,  and  that  the  imperialists,  supported  by  the  Colon- 
nas,  were  striving  to  have  a  pope  devoted  to  Charles  V.* 

But  great  as  might  be  the  agitation  at  Rome,  it  was 
greater  still  at  Whitehall.  If  God  caused  De'  Medici  to  de- 
scend from  the  pontifical  throne,  it  could  only  be,  thought 
Wolsey,  to  make  him  mount  it.  "It  is  expedient  to  have 
such  a  pope  as  may  save  the  realm,"  said  he  to  Gardiner. 
"  And  although  it  cannot  but  be  incommodious  to  me  in  this 
mine  old  age  to  be  the  common  father,  yet,  when  all  things 
be  well  pondered,  the  qualities  of  all  the  cardinals  well  con- 
sidered, I  am  the  only  one,  without  boasting,  that  can  and 
will  remedy  the  king's  secret  matter.  And  were  it  not  for 
the  redintegration  of  the  state  of  the  church,  and  especially 
to  relieve  the  king  and  his  realm  from  their  calamities,  all 
the  riches  and  honour  of  the  world  should  not  cause  me  to 
accept  the  said  dignity.  Nevertheless,  I  conform  myself  to 
the  necessities  of  the  times.  Wherefore,  Master  Stephen, 
that  this  matter  may  succeed,  I  pray  you  to  apply  all  your 
ingenuity,  spare  neither  money  nor  labour.  I  give  you  the 
amplest  powers,  without  restriction  or  limitation.''-]-  Gardi- 
ner departed  to  win  for  his  master  the  coveted  tiara. 

Henry  VIII.  and  Wolsey,  who  could  hardly  restrain  their 
impatience,  soon  heard  of  the  pontiff's  death  from  different 
quarters.^  "  The  emperor  has  taken  away  Clement's  life,*'§ 

»  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  148-150. 

t  Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  601. 

£  By  sundry  ways  hath  been  advertised  of  the  death  of  our  holy  father 
Ibid.  The  king's  Instructions. 

§  By  some  detestable  act  committed  for  the  late  pope's  destruction 
Ibid.  603 

02 


418  PARTIES  AMONG  THE  CARDINALS. 

said  Wolsey,  blinded  by  hatred.  "  Charles,"  rejoined  the 
king,  "  will  endeavour  to  obtain  by  force  or  fraud  a  pope  ac- 
cording to  his  desires."  "  Yes,  to  make  him  his  chaplain," 
replied  Wolsey,  "  and  to  put  an  end  by  degrees  both  to  pope 
and  popedom."*  "We  must  fly  to  the  defence  of 'the  church," 
resumed  Henry,  "and  with  that  view,  my  lord,  make  up 
your  mind  to  be  pope." — "  That  aione,"  answered  the  cardi- 
nal, "  can  bring  your  Majesty's  weighty  matter  to  a  happy 

termination,  and  by  saving  you,  save  the  church and 

myself  also,"  he  thought  in  his  heart.  "  Let  us  see,  let  us 
count  the  voters." 

Henry  and  his  minister  then  wrote  down  on  a  strip  of 
parchment  the  names  of  all  the  cardinals,  marking  with  the 
letter  A  those  who  were  on  the  side  of  the  kings  of  England 
and  France,  and  with  the  letter  B  all  who  favoured  the  em- 
peror. "  There  was  no  C"  says  a  chronicler  sarcastically,  "  to 
signify  any  on  Christ's  side."  The  letter  N  designated  the 
neutrals.  "  The  cardinals  present,"  said  Wolsey,  "  will  not 
exceed  thirty-nine,  and  we  must  have  two-thirds,  that  is, 
twenty-six.  Now,  there  are  twenty  upon  whom  we  can  reckon ; 
we  must  therefore,  at  any  price,  gain  six  of  the  neutrals." 

Wolsey,  deeply  sensible  of  the  importance  of  an  election 
that  would  decide  whether  "England  was  to  be  reformed  or 
not,  carefully  drew  up  the  instructions,  which  Henry  signed, 
and  which  history  must  register.  "  We  desire  and  ordain," 
the  ambassadors  were  informed  in  them,  "  that  you  secure 
the  election  of  the  cardinal  of  York  ;  not  forgetting  that  next 
to  the  salvation  of  his  own  soul,  there  is  nothing  the  king 
desires  more  earnestly. 

"  To  gain  over  the  neutral  cardinals  you  will  employ  two 
methods  in  particular.  The  first  is,  the  cardinals  being  pre- 
sent, and  having  God  and  the  Holy  Ghost  before  them,  you 
shall  remind  them  that  the  cardinal  of  York  alone  can  save 
Christendom. 

"  The  second  is,  because  human  fragility  suffereth  not  all 
things  to  be  pondered  and  weighed  in  a  just  balance,  it  ap- 
pertaineth  in  matter  of  so  high  importance,  to  the  comfort 

*  By  little  and  little  utterly  t .  sxclude  and  extinguish  him  and  his  au- 
thority. Foxe,  Acts,  iv.  p.  603. 


MEANS  TO  GAIN  THE  TIABA.  419 

and  relief  of  all  Christendom,  to  succour  the  infirmity  that 

may  chance not  for  corruption,  you  will  understand 

but  rather  to  help  the  lacks  and  defaults  of  human  nature. 
And,  therefore,  it  shall  be  expedient  that  you  promise  spi- 
ritual offices,  dignities,  rewards  of  money,  or  other  things 
which  shall  seem  meet  to  the  purpose. 

"  Then  shall  you,  with  good  dexterity,  combine  and  knit 
those  favourable  to  us  in  a  perfect  fastness  and  indissoluble 
knot.  And  that  they  may  be  the  better  animated  to  finish 
the  election  to  the  king's  desire,  you  shall  offer  them  a  guard 
of  2000  or  3000  men  from  the  kings  of  England  and  France, 
from  the  viscount  of  Turin,  and  the  republic  of  Venice. 

"  If,  notwithstanding  all  your  exertions,  the  election  should 
fail,  then  the  cardinals  of  the  king's  shall  repair  to  some  sure 
place,  and  there  proceed  to  such  an  election  as  may  be  to 
God's  pleasure. 

"  And  to  win  more  friends  for  the  king,  you  shall  promise, 
on  the  one  hand,  to  the  Cardinal  de'  Medici  and  his  party  our 
special  favour ;  and  the  Florentines,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
shall  put  in  comfort  of  the  exclusion  of  the  said  family  De' 
Medici.  Likewise  you  shall  put  the  cardinals  in  perfect  hope 
of  recovering  the  patrimony  of  the  church ;  and  you  shall 
contain  the  Venetians  in  good  trust  of  a  reasonable  way  to 
be  taken  for  Cervia  and  Ravenna  (which  formed  part  of  the 
patrimony)  to  their  contentment."* 

Such  were  the  means  by  which  the  cardinal  hoped  to  win 
the  papal  throne.  To  the  right  he  said  yes,  to  the  left  he 
said  no.  What  would  it  matter  that  these  perfidies  were  one 
day  discovered,  provided  it  were  after  the  election.  Christen- 
dom might  be  very  certain  that  the  choice  of  the  future  pon- 
tiff would  be  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Alexander  VI. 
had  been  a  poisoner ;  Julius  II.  had  given  way  to  ambition, 
anger,  and  vice ;  the  liberal  Leo  X.  had  passed  his  life  in 
worldly  pursuits ;  the  unhappy  Clement  VII.  had  lived  on 
stratagems  and  lies;  Wolsey  would  be  their  worthy  successor: 
a  All  the  seven  deadly  sins  have  worn  the  triple  crown."  f 

•  Foxe,  iv.  p.  604-608. 

t  Les  sept  pe'che's  mortels  ont  port£  la  tiare.  Casimir  Delavigne,  Der  • 
niers  chants,  le  Conclave. 


420  THE  DIVORCE  DEMANDED. 

Wolsey  found  his  excuse  in  the  thought,  that  if  he  suc- 
ceeded, the  divorce  was  secured,  and  England  enslaved  for 
ever  to  the  court  of  Rome. 

Success  at  first  appeared  probable.  Many  cardinals  spoke 
openly  in  favour  of  the  English  prelate ;  one  of  them  asked 
for  a  detailed  account  of  his  life,  in  order  to  present  it  as  a 
model  to  the  church ;  another  worshipped  him  (so  he  said) 

as  a  divinity Among  the  gods  and  popes  adored  at  Rome 

there  were  some  no  better  than  he.  But  erelong  alarming 
news  reached  England.  What  grief !  the  pope  was  getting 
better.  "  Conceal  your  instructions,"  wrote  the  cardinal,  "and 
reserve  them  in  omnem  eventum." 

Wolsey  not  having  obtained  the  tiara,  it  was  necessary  at 
least  to  gain  the  divorce.  "  God  declares,"  said  the  English 
ambassadors  to  the  pope,  "  Except  the  Lord  build  the  house, 
they  labour  in  vain  that  build  it.*  Therefore,  the  king,  tak- 
ing God  alone  for  his  guide,  requests  of  you,  in  the  first  place, 
an  engagement  to  pronounce  the  divorce  in  the  space  of  three 
months,  and  in  the  second  the  avocation  to  Rome." — "  The 
promise  first,  and  only  after  that  the  avocation,"  Wolsey  had 
said ;  "  for  I  fear  that  if  the  pope  begins  with  the  avocation, 
he  will  never  pronounce  the  divorce." — "  Besides,"  added  the 
envoys,  "  the  king's  second  marriage  admits  of  no  refusal, 
whatever  bulls  or  briefs  there  may  be.-}-  The  only  issue  of 
this  matter  is  the  divorce ;  the  divorce  in  one  way  or  another 
must  be  procured." 

Wolsey  had  instructed  his  envoys  to  pronounce  these 
words  with  a  certain  air  of  familiarity,  and  at  the  same  time 
with  a  gravity  calculated  to  produce  an  effect.:):  His  expecta- 
tions were  deceived:  Clement  was  colder  than  ever.  He  had 
determined  to  abandon  England  in  order  that  he  might  secure 
the  States  of  the  Church,  of  which  Charles  was  then  master, 
thus  sacrificing  the  spiritual  to  the  temporal.  "  The  pope 
will  not  do  the  least  thing  for  your  majesty,"  wrote  Bryan  to 

*  Where  Christ  is  not  the  foundation,  surely  no  building  can  be  of  good 
work.  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  122. 

•p  Convolare  ad  secundas  nuptias  non  patitur  negativum.    Ibid.  p.  138. 

$  Which  words,  fashioned  with  a  familiarity  and  somewhat  with  ear- 
nestness and  gravity.  Ibid. 


THE  rOPi/S  PATER  AND  CREDO.  421 

the  king ;  "  your  matter  may  well  be  in  his  Pater  noster,  but 
it  certainly  is  not  in  his  Credo"*  "  Increase  in  importunity," 
answered  the  king ;  "  the  cardinal  of  Verona  should  remain 
about  the  pope's  person  and  counterbalance  the  influence  of 
De  Angelis  and  the  archbishop  of  Capua.  I  would  rather 
lose  my  two  crowns  than  be  beaten  by  these  two  friars." 

Thus  was  the  struggle  about  to  become  keener  than  ever, 
when  Clement's  relapse  once  more  threw  doubt  on  everything. 
He  was  always  between  life  and  death  ;  and  this  perpetual 
alternation  agitated  the  king  and  the  impatient  cardinal  in 
every  way.  The  latter  considered  that  the  pope  had  need  of 
merits  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  "  Procure  an  inter- 
view with  the  pope,"  he  wrote  to  the  envoys,  "  even  though 
he  be  in  the  very  agony  of  death ;  •{•  and  represent  to  him 
that  nothing  will  be  more  likely  to  save  his  soul  than  the  bill 
of  divorce."  Henry's  commissioners  were  not  admitted ;  but 
towards  the  end  of  March,  the  deputies  appearing  in  a  body,| 
the  pope  promised  to  examine  the  letter  from  Spain.  Vannes 
began  to  fear  this  document ;  he  represented  that  those  who 
had  fabricated  it  would  have  been  able  to  give  it  an  appear- 
ance of  authenticity.  "  Rather  declare  immediately  that  this 
brief  is  not  a  brief,"  said  he  to  the  pope.  "  The  king  of 
England,  who  is  your  holiness's  son,  is  not  so  like  the  rest  of 
the  world.  We  cannot  put  the  same  shoe  on  every  foot."§ 
This  rather  vulgar  argument  did  not  touch  Clement.  "  If  to 
content  your  master  in  this  business,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot 
employ  my  head,  at  least  I  will  my  finger."  || — "  Be  pleased 
to  explain  yourself,"  replied  Vannes,  who  found  ihefaiffer  a 
very  little  matter. — "  I  mean,"  resumed  the  pontiff,  "  that  I 
shall  employ  every  means,  provided  they  are  honourable" 
Vannes  withdrew  disheartened. 

He  immediately  conferred  with  his  colleagues,  and  all  to- 
gether, alarmed  at  the  idea  of  Henry's  anger,  returned  to  the 
pontiff;  they  thrust  aside  the  lackeys,  who  endeavoured  to 

"  State  Papers,  TO!,  i.  p.  330. 
+  Burnet's  Ref.  i.  p.  49. 

J  Postquam  conjunctim  omnes.    State  Papers,  vii.  p.  154. 
§  Uno  eodemque  calceo  omnium  pedes  velle  ve&tire.    Ibid.  p.  156. 
||  Quod  forsan  non  licebit  toto  capite  assequi,  in  eo  digitum  imponam. 
Ibid.  p.  157. 


422  STRATAGEMS  AND  DELAYS. 

stop  them,  and  made  their  way  into  his  bedchamber.  Cle- 
ment opposed  them  with  that  resistance  of  inertia  by  which 
the  popedom  has  gained  its  greatest  victories  :  siluit,  he  re- 
mained silent.  Of  what  consequence  to  the  pontiff  were 
Tudor,  his  island,  and  his  church,  when  Charles  of  Austria 
was  threatening  him  with  his  armies  ?  Clement,  less  proud 
than  Hildebrand,  submitted  willingly  to  the  emperor's  power, 
provided  the  emperor  would  protect  him.  "  I  had  rather," 
he  said,  "  be  Caesar's  servant,  not  only  in  a  temple,  but  in  a 
stable  if  necessary,  than  be  exposed  to  the  insults  of  rebels 
and  vagabonds."*  At  the  same  time  he  wrote  to  Campeggio : 
"  Do  not  irritate  the  king,  but  spin  out  this  matter  as  much 
as  possible  ;-f-  the  Spanish  brief  gives  us  the  means." 

In  fact,  Charles  V.  had  twice  shown  Lee  the  original  do- 
cument, and  Wolsey,  after  this  ambassador's  report,  began 
to  believe  that  it  was  not  Charles  who  had  forged  the  brief, 
but  that  Pope  Julius  II.  had  really  given  two  contradictory 
documents  on  the  same  day.  Accordingly  the  cardinal  now 
feared  to  see  this  letter  in  the  pontiffs  hands.  "  Do  all  you 
can  to  dissuade  the  pope  from  seeking  the  original  in  Spain," 
wrote  he  to  one  of  his  ambassadors  ;  "  it  may  exasperate  the 
emperor."  We  know  how  cautious  the  cardinal  was  towards 
Charles.  Intrigue  attained  its  highest  point  at  this  epoch, 
and  Englishmen  and  Romans  encountered  craft  with  craft. 
"  In  such  ticklish  negotiations,"  says  Burnet,  (who  had  had 
some  little  experience  in  diplomacy,)  "ministers  must  say  and 
unsay  as  they  are  instructed,  which  goes  of  course  as  a  part  of 
their  business."  J  Henry's  envoys  to  the  pope  intercepted 
the  letters  sent  from  Rome,  and  had  Campeggio's  seized.  § 
On  his  part  the  pope  indulged  in  flattering  smiles  and  perfi- 
dious equivocations.  Bryan  wrote  to  Henry  VIII. :  "  Al- 
ways your  grace  hath  done  for  him  in  deeds,  and  he  hath 
recompensed  you  with  fair  words  and  fair  writings,  of  which 
both  I  think  your  grace  shall  lack  none ;  but  as  for  the  deeds, 

*  Malle  Csesari  a  stabulo  nedum  a  sacris  inservire,  quam  inferiorum 
hominum  subditorum,  vassalorum,  rebellium  111  jurias  sustinere.  Herbert, 
vol.  i.  p.  261. 

f  Le  Grand,  »ol.  i.  x>.  131. 

J  Burnet's  Ref.  rol.  1.  p.  54. 

§  De  intercipiendis  literis.    State  Papers,  vol.  vii.  p.  185. 


HENRY  RECALLS  HIS  AMBASSADORS.  423 

I  never  believe  to  see  them,  and  especially  at  this  time."* 
Bryan  had  comprehended  the  court  of  Rome  better  perhaps 
than  many  politicians.  Finally,  Clement  himself,  wishing  to 
prepare  the  king  for  the  blow  he  was  about  to  inflict,  wrote 
to  him :  "  We  have  been  able  to  find  nothing  that  would 
satisfy  your  ambassadors."  -j- 

Henry  thought  he  knew  what  this  message  meant :  that 
he  had  found  nothing,  and  would  find  nothing ;  and  accord- 
ingly this  prince,  who,  if  we  may  believe  Wolsey,  had  hitherto 
shown  incredible  patience  and  gentleness,  \  gave  way  to  all 
his  violence.  "  Very  well  then,"  said  he ;  "  my  lords  and  I 
well  know  how  to  withdraw  ourselves  from  the  authority  01 
the  Roman  see."  Wolsey  turned  pale,  and  conjured  his 
master  not  to  rush  into  that  fearful  abyss  ;  §  Campeggio,  too, 
endeavoured  to  revive  the  king's  hopes.  But  it  was  all  of 
no  use.  Henry  recalled  his  ambassadors. 

Henry,  it  is  true,  had  not  yet  reached  the  age  when  violent 
characters  become  inflexible  from  the  habit  they  have  en- 
couraged of  yielding  to  their  passions.  But  the  cardinal,  who 
knew  his  master,  knew  also  that  his  inflexibility  did  not  de- 
pend upon  the  number  of  his  years ;  he  thought  Rome's 
power  in  England  was  lost,  and,  placed  between  Henry  and 
Clement,  he  exclaimed :  "  How  shall  I  avoid  Scylla,  and  not 
fall  into  Charybdis  ?  "  ||  He  begged  the  king  to  make  one  last 
effort  by  sending  Dr  Bennet  to  the  pope  with  orders  to  sup- 
port the  avocation  to  Rome,  and  he  gave  him  a  letter  in 
which  he  displayed  all  the  resources  of  his  eloquence.  "  How 
can  it  be  imagined,"  he  wrote,  "  that  the  persuasions  of  sense 
urge  the  king  to  break  a  union  in  which  the  ardent  years  of 

his  youth  were  passed  with  such  purity  ?^[ The  matter  is 

very  different.  I  am  on  the  spot,  I  know  the  state  of  men's 
minds Pray,  believe  me The  divorce  is  the  secondary 

*  State  Papers,  vol.  vii.  p.  167. 

f  He  added  :  Tametsi  noctes  ac  dies  per  nos  ipsi,  ac  per  juris-peritis- 
simos  viros  omnes  vias  tent  emus.  Ibid.  p.  165. 

£  Incredibili  patientia  et  humanitate.    Burnet,  Records,  p.  xxxii. 

§  Ne  prteceps  hue  vel  illuc  rex  hie  ruat  curamus.    Ibid.  p.  xxxiii. 

I)  Hanc  Charybdin  et  hos  scopulos  evitasse.    Ibid.  p.  xxxii. 

•I  Sensuum  suadela  earn  abrumpere  cupiat  cousuetudiiiem  Ibid  p. 
xxxiii. 


424  WOLSEYS  EARNESTNESS. 

question  ;  the  primary  one  is  the  fidelity  of  this  realm  to  the 
iiapal  see.  The  nobility,  gentry,  and  citizens  all  exclaim 
with  indignation :  Must  our  fortunes,  and  even  our  lives, 
depend  upon  the  nod  of  a  foreigner  ?  We  must  abolish,  or 
at  the  very  least  diminish,  the  authority  of  the  Roman  pon- 
tiff.*  Most  holy  father,  we  cannot  mention  such  things 

without  a  shudder." This  new  attempt  was  also  unavail- 
ing. The  pope  demanded  of  Henry  how  he  could  doubt  his 
good  will,  seeing  that  the  king  of  England  had  done  so  much 
for  the  apostolic  see.  f  This  appeared  a  cruel  irony  to  Tudor ; 
the  king  requested  a  favour  of  the  pope,  and  the  pope  replied 
by  calling  to  mind  those  which  the  papacy  had  received  from 
his  hands.  "  Is  this  the  way,"  men  asked  in  England,  "  in 
which  Rome  pays  her  debts  ?" 

Wolsey  had  not  reached  the  term  of  his  misfortunes. 
Gardiner  and  Bryan  had  just  returned  to  London  :  they  de- 
clared that  to  demand  an  avocation  to  Rome  was  to  lose 
their  cause.  Accordingly  Wolsey,  who  turned  to  every  wind, 
ordered  Da  Casale,  in  case  Clement  should  pronounce  the 
avocation,  to  appeal  from  the  pope,  the  false  head  of  the 
church,  to  the  true  vicar  of  Jesus  Christ.].  This  was  almost 
in  Luther's  style.  Who  was  this  true  vicar  ?  Probably  a 
pope  nominated  by  the  influence  of  England. 

But  this  proceeding  did  not  assure  the  cardinal :  he  was 
losing  his  judgment.  A  short  time  before  this  Du  Bellay, 
who  had  just  returned  from  Paris,  whither  he  had  gone  to 
retain  France  on  the  side  of  England,  had  been  invited  to 
Richmond  by  Wolsey.  As  the  two  prelates  were  walking 
in  the  park,  on  that  hill  whence  the  eye  ranges  over  the  fer- 
tile and  undulating  fields  through  which  the  winding  Thames 
pours  its  tranquil  waters,  the  unhappy  cardinal  observed  to 

the  bishop  :  "  My  trouble  is  the  greatest  that  ever  was ! 

I  have  excited  and  carried  on  this  matter  of  the  divorce,  to 
dissolve  the  union  between  the  two  houses  of  Spain  and 

*  Qui  nullam  aut  certe  diminutam  hie  Romani  pontificis  auctoritatem. 
Burnet,  Records,  p.  xxxiii. 

+  Dubitare  non  debes  si  quidem  volueris  recordare  tua  erga  nos  merita. 
State  Papers,  vii.  p.  178. 

J  A  non  vieario  ad  vp-rum  vicarium  Jesu  Christi.     Ibid.  p.  191. 


WOLSEY'S  GRIEF.  425 

England,  by  sowing  misunderstanding  between  them,  as  if  I 
had  no  part  in  it.*  You  know  it  was  in  the  interest  of 
France ;  I  therefore  entreat  the  king  your  master  and  her 
majesty  to  do  everything  that  may  forward  the  divorce.  I 
shall  esteem  such  a  favour  more  than  if  they  made  me  pope ; 
but  if  they  refuse  me,  my  ruin  is  inevitable."  And  then 
giving  way  to  despair,  he  exclaimed :  "  Alas !  would  that  I 
were  going  to  be  buried  to-morrow!" 

The  wretched  man  was  drinking  the  bitter  cup  his  perfi- 
dies had  prepared  for  him.  All  seemed  to  conspire  against 
Henry,  and  Bennet  was  recalled  shortly  after.  It  was  said 
at  court  and  in  the  city :  "  Since  the  pope  sacrifices  us  to  the 
emperor,  let  us  sacrifice  the  pope."  Clement  VII.,  intimi- 
dated by  the  threats  of  Charles  V.,  and  tottering  upon  his 
throne,  madly  repelled  with  his  foot  the  bark  of  England. 
Europe  was  all  attention,  and  began  to  think  that  the  proud 
vessel  of  Albion,  cutting  the  cable  that  bound  her  to  the 
pontiffs,  would  boldly  spread  her  canvass  to  the  winds,  and 
ever  after  sail  the  sea  alone,  wafted  onwards*  by  the  breeze 
that  comes  from  heaven. 

The  influence  of  Rome  over  Europe  is  in  great  measure 
political.  Jt  loses  a  kingdom  by  a  royal  quarrel,  and  might 
in  this  same  way  lose  ten. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Discussion  between  tlie  Evangelicals  and  the  Catholics — Union  of  Learn- 
ing and  Life— The  Laity :  Tewkesbury— His  Appearance  before  the 
Bishop's  Court  — He  is  tortured— Two  Classes  of  Opponents— A  Theo- 
logical Duel — Scripture  and  the  Church  — Emancipation  of  the  Mind 
— Mission  to  the  Low  Countries — Tyndale's  Embarrassment— Tonstall 
wishes  to  buy  the  Books— Packington's  Stratagem — Tyndale  departs 
for  Antwerp— His  Shipwreck — Arrival  at  Hamburg — Meets  Coverdale. 

OTHER  circumstances  from  day  to  day  rendered  the  emanci- 
pation of  the   church   more   necessary.     If  behind    these 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorancy,  22d  May.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  319. 
VOL.  T.  1 9 


426  EVANGELICALS  AND  CATHOLICS. 

political  debates  there  had  not  been  found  a  Christian  people, 
resolved  never  to  temporize  with  error,  it  is  probable  that 
England,  after  a  few  years  of  independence,  would  have 
fallen  back  into  the  bosom  of  Rome.  The  affair  of  the 
divorce  was  not  the  only  one  agitating  men's  minds ;  the 
religious  controversies,  which  for  some  years  filled  the  con- 
tinent, were  always  more  animated  at  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge. The  Evangelicals  and  the  Catholics  (not  very 
catholic  indeed)  warmly  discussed  the  great  questions  which 
the  progress  of  events  brought  before  the  world.  The  for- 
mer maintained  that  the  primitive  church  of  the  apostles 
and  the  actual  church  of  the  papacy  were  not  identical ;  the 
latter  affirmed,  on  the  contrary,  the  identity  of  popery  and 
apostolic  Christianity.  Other  Romish  doctors  in  later  times, 
finding  this  position  somewhat  embarrassing,  have  asserted 
that  Catholicism  existed  only  in  the  germ  in  the  apostolic 
church,  and  had  subsequently  developed  itself.  But  a 
thousand  abuses,  a  thousand  errors  may  creep  into  a  church 
under  cover  of  this  theory.  A  plant  springs  from  the  seed 
and  grows  up  in  accordance  with  immutable  laws  ;  whilst  a 
doctrine  cannot  be  transformed  in  the  mind  of  man  without 
falling  under  the  influence  of  sin.  It  is  true  that  the  dis- 
ciples of  popery  have  supposed  a  constant  action  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  in  the  Catholic  Church,  which  excludes  every 
influence  of  error.  To  stamp  on  the  development  of  the 
church  the  character  of  truth,  they  have  stamped  on  the 
church  itself  the  character  of  infallibility  ;  quod  erat  demon- 
strandum. Their  reasoning  is  a  mere  begging  of  the  ques- 
tion. To  know  whether  the  Romish  development  is  identical 
with  the  gospel,  we  must  examine  it  by  Scripture. 

It  was  not  university  men  alone  who  occupied  themselves 
with  Christian  truth.  The  separation  which  has  been  re- 
marked in  other  times  between  the  opinions  of  the  people 
and  of  the  learned,  did  not  now  exist.  What  the  doctors 
taught,  the  citizens  practised ;  Oxford  and  London  embraced 
each  other.  The  theologians  knew  that  learning  has  need 
of  life,  and  the  citizens  believed  that  life  has  need  of  that 
learning  which  derives  the  doctrine  from  the  wells  of  the 
Scriptures  of  God.  It  was  the  harmony  between  these  two 


.          KNOWLEDGE  AND  LIFE.  427 

elements,  the  one  theological,  the  other  practical,  which  con- 
stituted the  strength  of  the  English  reformation. 

The  evangelical  life  in  the  capital  alarmed  the  clergy- 
more  than  the  evangelical  doctrine  in  the  colleges.  Since 
Monmouth  had  escaped,  they  must  sjjike  another.  Amqng 
the  London  merchants  was  John  Tewkesbury,  one  of  the 
oldest  friends  of  the  Scriptures  in  England.  As  early  as 
1512  he  had  become  possessor  of  a  manuscript  copy  of  the 
Bible,  and  had  attentively  studied  it ;  when  Tyndale's  New 
Testament  appeared,  he  read  it  with  avidity ;  and,  finally, 
The  Wicked  Mammon  had  completed  the  work  of  his  con- 
version. Being  a  man  of  heart  and  understanding,  clever 
in  all  he  undertook,  a  ready  and  fluent  speaker,  and  liking 
to  get  to  the  bottom  of  everything,  Tewkesbury  like  Mon- 
mouth became  very  influential  in  the  city,  and  one  of  the 
most  learned  in  Scripture  of  any  of  the  evangelicals.  These 
generous  Christians,  being  determined  to  consecrate  to  God 
the  good  things  they  had  received  from  him,  were  the  first 
among  that  long  series  of  laymen  who  were  destined  to  be 
more  useful  to  the  truth  than  many  ministers  and  bishops. 
They  found  time  to  interest  themselves  about  the  most 
trifling  details  of  the  kingdom  of  God ;  and  in  the  history  of 
the  Reformation  in  Britain  their  names  should  be  inscribed 
beside  those  of  Latimer  and  Tyndale. 

The  activity  of  these  laymen  could  not  escape  the  cardi- 
nal's notice.  Clement  VII.  was  abandoning  England :  it 
was  necessary  for  the  English  bishops,  by  crushing  the 
heretics,  to  show  that  they  would  not  abandon  the  popedom. 
We  can  understand  the  zeal  of  these  prelates,  and  without 
excusing  their  persecutions,  we  are  disposed  to  extenuate 
their  crime.  The  bishops  determined  to  ruin  Tewkesbury. 
One  day  in  April  1529,  as  he  was  busy  among  his  peltries, 
the  officers  entered  his  warehouse,  arrested  him,  and  led  him 
away  to  the  bishop  of  London's  chapel,  where,  besides  the 
ordinary  (Tonstall),  the  bishops  of  Ely,  St  Asaph,  Bath,  and 
Lincoln,  with  the  abbot  of  Westminster,  were  on  the  bench. 
The  composition  of  this  tribunal  indicated  the  importance  of 
his  case,  The  emancipation  of  the  laity,  thought  these 


42  R  .     TEWKESBURY  BEFORE  THE  BISHOJ>S. 

judges,  is  perhaps  a  more  dangerous  heresy  than  justifica- 
tion by  faith. 

"John  Tewkesbury,"  said  the  bishop  of  London,  "  I 
exhort  you  to  trust  less  to  your  own  wit  and  learning,  and 
more  unto  the  doctrine  of  the  holy  mother  the  church." 
Tewkesbury  made  answer,  that  in  his  judgment  he  held  no 
other  doctrine  than  that  of  the  church  of  Christ.  Tonstall 
then  broached  the  principal  charge,  that  of  having  read  the 
Wicked  Mammon,  and  after  quoting  several  passages,  he 
exclaimed  :  "  Renounce  these  errors." — "  I  find  no  fault  in 
the  book,"  replied  Tewkesbury.  "  It  has  enlightened  my 
conscience  and  consoled  my  heart.  But  it  is  not  my  gospel. 
I  have  studied  the  Holy  Scriptures  these  seventeen  years,  and 
as  a  man  sees  the  spots  of  his  face  in  a  glass,  so  by  reading 
them  I  have  learnt  the  faults  of  my  soul.*  If  there  is  a  dis- 
agreement between  you  and  the  New  Testament,  put  yourselves 
in  harmony  with  it,  rather  than  desire  to  put  that  in  accord 
with  you."  The  bishops  were  surprised  that  a  leather- 
seller  should  speak  so  well,  and  quote  Scripture  so  happily 
that  they  were  unable  to  resist  him.-j-  Annoyed  at  being 
catechised  by  a  layman,  the  bishops  of  Bath,  St  Asaph,  and 
Lincoln  thought  they  could  conquer  him  more  easily  by  the 
rack  than  by  their  arguments.  He  was  taken  to  the  Tower, 
where  they  ordered  him  to  be  put  to  the  torture.  His  limbs 
were  crushed,  which  was  contrary  to  the  laws  of  England, 
and  the  violence  of  the  rack  tore  from  him  a  cry  of  agony 
to  which  the  priests  replied  by  a  shout  of  exultation.  The 
inflexible  merchant  had  promised  at  last  to  renounce  Tyn- 
dale's  Wicked  Mammon.  Tewkesbury  left  the  Tower 
"  almost  a  cripple,"  J  and  returned  to  his  house  to  lament 
the  fatal  word  which  the  question  had  extorted  from  him, 
and  to  prepare  in  the  silence  of  faith  to  confess  in  the  burn- 
ing pile  the  precious  name  of  Christ  Jesus. 

We  must,  however,  acknowledge  that  the  "question"  was 

not  Rome's  only  argument.     The  gospel  had  two  classes  of 

opponents  in  the  sixteenth  century,  as  in  the  first  ages  of  the 

church.     Some  attacked  it  with  the  torture,  others  with  their 

•  Foxe,  iv.  p.  690.  f  Ibid.  p.  689.  $  Ibid. 


MOKE'S  ATTACK  ON  TYXDALE.  429 

writings.  Sir  Thomas  More,  a  few  years  later,  was  to  have 
recourse  to  the  first  of  these  arguments ;  but  for  the  moment 
he  took  up  his  pen.  He  had  first  studied  the  writings  of 
the  Fathers  of  the  church,  and  of  the  Reformers,  but  rather 
as  an  advocate  than  as  a  theologian ;  and  then,  armed  at  all 
points,  he  rushed  into  the  arena  of  polemics,  and  in  his  at- 
tacks dealt  those  "  technical  convictions  and  that  malevolent 
subtlety,"  says  one  of  his  greatest  admirers,*  "  from  which 
the  honestest  men  of  his  profession  are  not  free."  Jests  and 
sarcasms  had  fallen  from  his  pen  in  his  discussion  with 
Tyndale,  as  in  his  controversy  with  Luther.  Shortly  after 
Tevvkesbury's  affair  (in  June  1529)  there  appeared  A  Dia- 
logue of  Sir  Thomas  More,  Knt.,  touching  the  pestilent  Sect 
of  Luther  and  Tyndale,  by  the  one  begun  in  Saxony,  and  by 
the  other  laboured  to  be  brought  into  England.-^ 

Tyndale  soon  became  informed  of  More's  publication,  and 
a  remarkable  combat  ensued  between  these  two  representa- 
tives of  the  two  doctrines  that  were  destined  to  divide 
Christendom — Tyndale  the  champion  of  Scripture,  and  More 
the  champion  of  the  church.  More  having  called  his  book  a 
dialogue,  Tyndale  adopted  this  form  in  his  reply,!  an^  l'ie  two 
combatants  valiantly  crossed  their  swords,  though  wide  seas 
lay  between  them.  This  theological  duel  is  not  without  im- 
portance in  the  history  of  the  Reformation.  The  struggles 
of  diplomacy,  of  sacerdotalism,  and  of  royalty  were  not 
enough ;  there  must  be  struggles  of  doctrine.  Rome  had  set 
the  hierarchy  above  the  faith ;  the  Reformation  was  to  restore 
faith  to  its  place  above  the  hierarchy. 

MORE.  Christ  said  not,  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  write,  but 
shall  teach.  Whatsoever  the  church  says,  it  is  the  word  of 
God,  though  it  be  not  in  Scripture. 

TYNDALE.  "What!  Christ  and  the  apostles  not  spoken  of 
Scriptures'. These  are  written,  says  St  John,  that  ye 

*  Nisard,  Homines  illustres  de  la  renaissance.  Revue  des  Deux 
Afondes. 

+  The  Dialogue  consisted  of  250  pages,  and  was  printed  by  John  Ras- 
tell,  More's  brother-in-law.  Tyndale's  answer  did  not  appear  autil  later  ; 
we  have  thought  it  our  duty  to  introduce  it  here. 

f  Answer  to  Sir  Thomas  More's  Dialogue. 


430  A  THEOLOGICAL 

believe,  and  through  belief  have  life.  (1  John  ii.  1 ;  Rom. 
xv.  4  ;  Matthew  xxii.  29.)* 

MOKE.  The  apostles  have  taught  by  mouth  many  things 
they  did  not  write,  because  they  should  not  come  into  the 
hands  of  the  heathen  for  mocking. 

TYNDALE.  I  pray  you  what  thing  more  to  be  mocked  by 
the  heathen  could  they  teach  than  the  resurrection ;  and  that 
Christ  was  God  and  man,  and  died  between  two  thieves  ? 
And  yet  all  these  things  the  apostles  wrote.  And  again, 
purgatory,  penance,  and  satisfaction  for  sin,  and  praying  to 
saints,  are  marvellous  agreeable  unto  the  superstition  of  the 
heathen  people,  so  that  they  need  not  to  abstain  from  writ- 
ing of  them  for  fear  lest  the  heathen  should  have  mocked 
them.-}- 

MORE.  We  must  not  examine  the  teaching  of  the  church 
by  Scripture,  but  understand  Scripture  by  means  of  what 
the  church  says. 

TYNDALE.  What !  Does  the  air  give  light  to  the  sun,  or 
the  sun  to  the  air?  Is  the  church  before  the  gospel,  or  the 
gospel  before  the  church  ?  Is  not  the  father  older  than  the 
son  ?  God  begat  us  with  his  own  ivill,  with  the  word  of  truth, 
says  St  James  (i.  18.)  If  he  who  begetteth  is  before  him 
who  is  begotten,  the  word  is  before  the  church,  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  before  the  congregation. 

MOUE.     Why  do  you  say  congregation  and  not  church  ? 

TYNDALE.  Because  by  that  word  church,  you  understand 
nothing  but  a  multitude  of  shorn  and  oiled,  which  we  now 
call  the  spirituality  or  clergy ;  while  the  word  of  right  is 
common  unto  all  the  congregation  of  them  that  believe  in 
Christ.f 

MORE.    The  church  is  the  pope  and  his  sect  or  followers. 

TYNDALE.  The  pope  teacheth  us  to  trust  in  holy  works 
for  salvation,  as  penance,  saints'  merits,  and  friars'  coats.§ 
Now,  he  that  hath  no  faith  to  be  saved  through  Christ,  is 
not  of  Christ's  church. || 

MORE.  The  Romish  church  from  which  the  Lutherans 
came  out,  was  before  them,  and  therefore  is  the  right  one. 

*  Answer  to  Sir  Thomas  More's  Dialogue,  p.  101. 

•r  Ibid.  p.  28,  29,      J  Ibid.  p.  12, 13.      §  Ibid.  p.  40.     11  Ibid.  p.  39. 


APOSTLES  AND  REFORMERS.  431 

TYNDALE.  In  like  manner  you  may  say,  the  church  of  the 
Pharisees,  whence  Christ  and  his  apostles  came  out,  was 
before  them,  and  was  therefore  the  right  church,  and  conse- 
quently Christ  and  his  disciples  are  heretics. 

MORE.  No :  the  apostles  came  out  from  the  church  of  the 
Pharisees  because  they  found  not  Christ  there;  but  your 
priests  in  Germany  and  elsewhere  have  come  out  of  our 
church  because  they  wanted  wives. 

TYXDALE.  Wrong these  priests  were  at  first  at- 
tached to  what  you  call  heresies,  and  then  they  took  wives ; 
but  yours  were  first  attached  to  the  holy  doctrine  of  the  pope, 
and  then  they  took  harlots.* 

MORE.     Luther's  books  be  open,  if  ye  will  not  believe  us. 

TYNDALE.  Nay,  ye  have  shut  them  up,  and  have  even 
burnt  them.f 

MORE.  I  marvel  that  you  deny  purgatory,  Sir  William, 
except  it  be  a  plain  point  with  you  to  go  straight  to  hell.J 

TYXDALE.  I  know  no  other  purging  but  faith  in  the  cross 
of  Christ ;  while  you,  for  a  groat  or  a  sixpence,  buy  some 
secret  pills  [indulgences]  which  you  take  to  purge  yourselves 
of  your  sins.§ 

MORE.  Faith,  then,  is  your  purgatory,  you  say ;  there  is 
no  need,  therefore,  of  works — a  most  immoral  doctrine ! 

TYNDALE.  It  is  faith  alone  that  saves  us,  but  not  a  bare 
faith.  When  a  horse  beareth  a  saddle  and  a  man  thereon, 
we  may  well  say  that  the  horse  only  and  alone  beareth  the 
saddle,  but  we  do  not  mean  the  saddle  empty,  and  no  man 
thereon.  || 

In  this  manner  did  the  catholic  and  the  evangelical  carry 
on  the  discussion.  According  to  Tyndale,  what  constitutes 
the  true  church  is  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  within ;  ac- 
cording to  More,  the  constitution  of  the  papacy  without. 
The  spiritual  character  of  the  gospel  is  thus  put  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  formalist  character  of  the  Roman  church.  The 
Reformation  restored  to  our  belief  the  solid  foundation  of  the 
word  of  God ;  for  the  sand  it  substituted  the  rock.  In  the 
discussion  to  which  we  have  just  been  listening,  the  advan- 

*  Answer  to  Sir  Thomas  Mare's  Dialogue,  p.  104. 

t  Ibid.  p.  189.  J  Ibid.  p.  214.  §  Ibid.  ||  Ibid.  p.  197 


432         TREATY  AQAJSST  LUTHERAN  BOOKS. 

tage  remained  not  with  the  catholic.  Erasmus,  a  friend  of 
More  s,  embarrassed  by  the  course  the  latter  was  taking, 
wrote  to  Tonstall :  "  I  cannot  heartily  congratulate  More."* 

Henry  interrupted  the  celebrated  knight  in  these  contests 
to  send  him  to  Cambray,  where  a  peace  was  negotiating  be- 
tween France  and  the  empire.  Wolsey  would  have  been 
pleased  to  go  himself;  but  his  enemies  suggested  to  the  king, 
"  that  it  was  only  that  he  might  not  expedite  the  matter  of 
the  divorce."  Henry,  therefore,  despatched  More,  Knight, 
and  Tonstall ;  but  Wolsey  had  created  so  many  delays  that 
they  did  not  arrive  until  after  the  conclusion  of  the  Ladies' 
Peace  (August  1529).  The  king's  vexation  was  extreme. 
Du  Bellay  had  in  vain  helped  him  to  spend  a  good  prepara- 
tory July  to  make  him  swallow  the  dose.-\-  Henry  was  angry 
with  Wolsey,  Wolsey  threw  the  blame  on  the  ambassador, 
and  the  ambassador  defended  himself,  he  tells  us,  "with 
tooth  and  nail."  J 

By  way  of  compensation,  the  English  envoys  concluded 
with  the  emperor  a  'treaty  prohibiting  on  both  sides  the 
printing  and  sale  of  "  any  Lutheran  books."  §  Some  of 
them  could  have  wished  for  a  good  persecution,  for  a  few 
burning  piles,  it  may  be.  A  singular  opportunity  occurred. 
In  the  spring  of  1529,  Tyndale  and  Fryth  had  left  Mar- 
burg for  Antwerp,  and  were  thus  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Eng- 
lish envoys.  What  West  had  been  unable  to  effect,  it  was 
thought  the  two  most  intelligent  men  in  Britain  could  not 
fail  to  accomplish.  "  Tyndale  must  be  captured,"  said  More 
and  Tonstall. — y  You  do  not  know  what  sort  of  a  country 
you  are  in,"  replied  Hackett.  "  Will  you  believe  that  on  the 
7th  of  April,  Harman  arrested  me  at  Antwerp  for  damages, 
caused  by  his  imprisonment  ?  If  you  can  lay  anything  to 
my  charge  as  a  private  individual,  I  said  to  the  officer,  I  am 
ready  to  answer  for  myself;  but  if  you  arrest  me  as  ambassa- 
dor, I  know  no  judge  but  the  emperor.  Upon  which  ths 
procurator  had  the  audacity  to  reply,  that  I  was  arrested 

*  Thomso  More  non  admodum  gratulor.    Erasm.  Epp.  p.  1478. 
•f-  Juillet  pre"paratoire  pour  lui  faire  avaler  la  me'decine. 
J  Du  bee  et  des  ongles.    Du  Bellay  to  Mortmorenoy.    Le  Grand,  ill 
p.  328.  §  Herbert,  p.  316. 


TYNDALE'S  DANGER.  433 

as  ambassador ;  and  the  lords  of  Antwerp  only  set  me  at 
liberty  on  condition  that  I  should  appear  again  at  the  first 
summons.*  These  merchants  are  so  proud  of  their  fran- 
chises, that  they  would  resist  even  Charles  himself."  This 
anecdote  was  not  at  all  calculated  to  encourage  More ;  and 
not  caring  about  a  pursuit,  which  promised  to  be  of  little 
use,  he  returned  to  England.  But  the  bishop  of  London, 
who  was  left  behind,  persisted  in  the  project,  and  repaired 
to  Antwerp  to  put  it  in  execution. 

Tyndale  was  at  that  time  greatly  embarrassed ;  consid- 
erable debts,  incurred  with  his  printers,  compelled  him  to 
suspend  his  labours.  Nor  was  this  all:  the  prelate  who 
had  spurned  him  so  harshly  in  London,  had  just  arrived  in 
the  very  city  where  he  lay  concealed* What  would  be- 
come of  him? A  merchant,  named  Augustin  Packing- 
ton,  a  clever  man,  but  somewhat  inclined  to  dissimulation, 
happening  to  be  at  Antwerp  on  business,  hastened  to  pay 
his  respects  to  the  bishop.  The  latter  observed,  in  the 
course  of  conversation :  "  I  should  like  to  get  hold  of  the 
books  with  which  England  is  poisoned." — "  I  can  perhaps 
serve  you  in  that  matter,"  replied  the  merchant.  "  I  know 
the  Flemings,  who  have  bought  Tyndale's  books ;  so  that 
if  your  lordship  will  be  pleased  to  pay  for  them,  I  will  make 
sure  of  them  all."— "  Oh,  oh!"  thought  the  bishop,  "Now, 
as  the  proverb  says,  I  shall  have  God  by  the  toe.-}-  Gentle 
Master  Packington,"  he  added  in  a  flattering  tone,  "  I  will 
pay  for  them  whatsoever  they  cost  you.  I  intend  to  burn 
them  at  St  Paul's  cross."  The  bishop,  having  his  hand 
already  on  Tyndale's  Testaments,  fancied  himself  on  the 
point  of  seizing  Tyndale  himself. 

Packington,  being  one  of  those  men  who  love  to  concil- 
iate all  parties,  ran  off  to  Tyndale,  with  whom  he  was  inti- 
mate, and  said : — "  William,  I  know  you  are  a  poor  man, 
and  have  a  heap  of  New  Testaments  and  books  by  you,  for 
which  you  have  beggared  yourself;  and  I  have  now  found 
a  merchant  who  will  buy  them  all,  and  with  ready  money 

*  Hackett  to  Wolsoy,  Brussels,  13th  April,  1529.   Bible  Annala,  voL  i. 
p.  199. 
f  Foie,  ir.  p.  670. 

* 


434  TYNDALE  SHIPWRECKED. 

too."—"  Who  is  the  merchant  ?"  said  Tyndale.— "  The  bishop 

of  London." — "Tonstall? If  he  buys  my  books,  it  can 

only  be  to  burn  them." — "  No  doubt,"  answered  Packing- 
ton  ;  "  but  what  will  he  gain  by  it  ?  The  whole  world  will 
cry  out  against  the  priest  who  burns  God's  word,  and  the 
eyes  of  many  will  be  opened.  Come,  make  up  your  mind, 
William ;  the  bishop  shall  have  the  books,  you  the  money, 

and  I  the  thanks." Tyndale  resisted  the  proposal ;  Pack- 

ington  became  more  pressing.  "The  question  comes  to 
this,"  he  said  ;  "  shall  the  bishop  pay  for  the  books  or  shall 

he  not?  for,  make  up  your  mind he  will  have  them." — 

"  I  consent,"  said  the  reformer  at  last ;  "  I  shall  pay  my 
debts,  and  bring  out  a  new  and  more  correct  edition  of  the 
Testament."  The  -bargain  was  made. 

Erelong  the  danger  thickened  around  Tyndale.  Placards, 
posted  at  Antwerp  and  throughout  the  province,  announced 
that  the  emperor,  in  conformity  with  the  treaty  of  Cambray, 
was  about  to  proceed  against  the  reformers  and  their  writ- 
ings. Not  an  officer  of  justice  appeared  in  the  street  but 
Tyndale's  friends  trembled  for  his  liberty.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances, how  <;ould  he  print  his  translation  of  Genesis 
and  Deuteronomy  ?  He  made  up  his  mind  about  the  end 
of  August  to  go  to  Hamburg,  and  took  his  passage  in  a  ves- 
sel loading  for  that  port.  Embarking  with  his  books,  his 
manuscripts,  and  the  rest  of  his  money,  he  glided  down  the 
Scheldt,  and  soon  found  himself  afloat  on  the  German  Ocean. 

But  one  danger  followed  close  upon  another.  He  had 
scarcely  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Meuse  when  a  tempest 
burst  upon  him,  and  his  ship,  like  that  of  old  which  bore  St 
Paul,  was  almost  swallowed  up  by  the  waves. — "  Satan, 
envying  the  happy  course  and  success  of  the  gospel,"  says  a 
chronicler,  "  set  to  his  might  how  to  hinder  the  blessed  la- 
bours of  this  man."*  The  seamen  toiled,  Tyndale  prayed, 
all  hope  was  lost.  The  reformer  alone  was  full  of  courage, 
not  doubting  that  God  would  preserve  him  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  work.  All  the  exertions  of  the  crew  proved 
useless ;  the  vessel  was  dashed  on  the  coast,  and  the  passen- 
gers escaped  with  their  lives.  Tyndale  gazed  with  sorrow 
*  Foxe,  v.  p.  120. 


TYNDALE  AND  COVERDALE  AT  HAMBURG.  435 

upon  that  ocean  which  had  swallowed  up  his  beloved  books 
and  precious  manuscripts,  and  deprived  him  of  his  resources.* 
"What  labours,  Avhat  perils !  banishment,  poverty,  thirst,  in- 
sults, watchings,  persecution,  imprisonment,  the  stake! 

Like  Paul,  he  was  in  perils  by  his  own  countrymen,  in  perils 
among  strange  people,  in  perils  in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the 
sea.  Recovering  his  spirits,  however,  he  went  on  board  an- 
other ship,  entered  the  Elbe,  and  at  last  reached  Hamburg. 

Great  joy  was  in  store  for  him  in,  that  city.  Coverdale, 
Foxe  informs  us,  was  waiting  there  to  confer  with  him  and 
to  help  him  in  his  labours.-J-  It  has  been  supposed  that 
Coverdale  went  to  Hamburg  to  invite  Tyndale,  in  Crom- 
well's name,  to  return  to  England  ;J  but  it  is  merely  a  con- 
jecture, and  requires  confirmation.  As  early  as  1527,  Co- 
verdale had  made  known  to  Cromwell  his  desire  to  translate 
the  Scriptures.§  It  was  natural  that,  meeting  with  difficul- 
ties in  this  undertaking,  he  should  desire  to  converse  with 
Tyndale.  The  two  friends  lodged  with  a^  pious  woman 
named  Margaret  van  Emmersen,  and  spent  some  time  to- 
gether in  the  autumn  of  1529,  undisturbed  by  the  sweating 
sickness  which  was  making  such  cruel  havoc  all  around 
them.  Coverdale  returned  to  England  shortly  after;  the 
two  reformers  had,  no  doubt,  discovered  that  it  was  better 
for  each  of  them  to  translate  the  Scriptures  separately. 

Before  Coverdale's  return,  Tonstall  had  gone  back  to 
London,  exulting  at  carrying  with  him  the  books  he  had 
bought  so  dearly.  But  when  he  reached  the  capital,  he 
thought  he  had  better  defer  the  meditated  auto  dafe  until 
some  striking  event  should  give  it  increased  importance. 
And  besides,  just  at  that  moment,  very  different  matters  were 
engaging  public  attention  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and 
the  liveliest  emotions  agitated  every  mind. 

•  Lost  both  his  money,  his  copies Foxe,  v.  p.  120. 

f  Coverdale  tarried  for  him  and  helped  him.    Ibid. 

J  Anderson's  Annals  of  the  Bible,  i.  p.  240. 

§  This  is  the  date  assigned  in  Coverdale's  Remains  (Park.  Soc.),  p.  490. 


436  THE  ROYAL  SESSION. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Royal  Session — Sitting  of  the  18th  June ;  the  Queen's  Protest- 
Sitting  of  the  21st  June — Summons  to  the  King  and  Queen — Catherine's 
Speech — She  retires  — Impression  on  the  Audience — The  King's  Decla- 
ration— Wolsey's  Protest — Quarrel  between  the  Bishops — New  Sitting 
— Apparition  to  the  Maid  of  Kent— Wolsey  chafed  by  Henry — Tho 
Earl  of  Wiltshire  at  Wolsey 'a —Private  Conference  between  Catherine 
and  the  two  Legates. 

AFFAIRS  had  changed  in  England  during  the  absence  of 
Tonstall  and  More;  and  even  before  their  departure,  events 
of  a  certain  importance  had  occurred.  Henry,  finding  there 
was  nothing  more  to  hope  from  Rome,  had  turned  to  Wolsey 
and  Campeggio.  The  Roman  nuncio  had  succeeded  in  de- 
ceiving the  king.  "  Campeggio  is  very  different  from  what 
he  is  reported,"  said  Henry  to  his  friends;  "  he  is  not  for  the 
emperor  as  I  was  told;  I  have  said  somewhat  to  him  which 
has  changed  his  mind."*  No  doubt  he  had  made  some 
brilliant  promise. 

Henry  therefore,  imagining  himself  sure  of  his  two  legates, 
desired  them  to  proceed  with  the  matter  of  the  divorce  with- 
out delay.  There  was  no  time  to  lose,  for  the  king  was  in- 
formed that  the  pope  was  on  the  point  of  recalling  the 
commission  given  to  the  two  cardinals;  and  as  early  as  the 
19th  of  March,  Salviati,  the  pope's  uncle  and  secretary  of 
state,  wrote  to  Campeggio  about  it.-f  Henry's  process,  once 
in  the  court  of  the  pontifical  chancery,  it  would  have  been 
long  before  it  got  out  again.  Accordingly,  on  the  31st  of 
May,  the  king,  by  a  warrant  under  the  great  seal,  gave  the 
legates  leave  to  execute  their  commission,  "without  any 
regard  to  his  own  person,  and  having  the  fear  of  God  only 
before  their  eyes."|:  The  legates  themselves  had  suggested 
this  formula  to  the  king. 

*  Bumet,  Records,  p.  xxxv. 

+  E  quanto  altro  non  si  possa,  forse  si  pensera  ad  avvocare  la  causa  a 
66.    Lettere  di  XIII.  uomini  illustri,  19th  March  1529. 
$  Ut  eolum  Deuua  prae  oculis  habentis,    Rymer,  Acta  ad  annum. 


THE  COMMISSION  OPENED — THE  QUEEN  PROTESTS.   437 

On  the  same  day  the  commission  was  opened;  but  to  be- 
gin the  process  was  not  to  end  it.  Every  letter  which  the 
nuncio  received  forbade  him  to  do  so  in  the  most  positive 
manner.  "  Advance  slowly  and  never  finish,"  were  Cle- 
ment's instructions.*  The  trial  was  to  be  a  farce,  played  by 
a  pope  and  two  cardinals. 

The  ecclesiastical  court  met  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Black- 
friars,  commonly  called  the  "parliament  chamber."  The 
two  legates  having  successively  taken  the  commission  in 
their  hands,  devoutly  declared  that  they  were  resolved  to 
execute  it  (they  should  have  said,  to  elude  k),  made  the 
required  oaths,  and  ordered  a  peremptory  citation  of  the 
king  and  queen  to  appear  on  the  18th  of  June  at  nine  in  the 
morning.  .  Campeggio  was  eager  to  proceed  slowly;  the 
session  was  adjourned  for  three  weeks.  The  citation  caused 
4 a  great  stir  among  the  people.  "What!"  said  they,  "a 
king  and  a  queen  constrained  to  appear,  in  their  own  realm, 
before  their  own  subjects."  The  papacy  set  an  example 
which  was  to  be  strictly  followed  in  after-years  both  in 
England  and  in  France. 

On  the  18th  of  June,  Catherine  appeared  before  the  com- 
mission in  the  parliament  chamber,  and  stepping  forward 
with  dignity,  said  with  a  firm  voice:  "I  protest  against 
the  legates  as  incompetent  judges,  and  appeal  to  the  pope."-{- 
This  proceeding  of  the  queen's,  her  pride  and  firmness, 
troubled  her  enemies,  and  in  their  vexation  they  grew  exas- 
perated against  her.  "Instead  of  praying  God  to  bring 
this  matter  to  a  good  conclusion,"  they  said,  "  she  endeav- 
ours to  turn  away  the  people's  affections  from  the  king. 
Instead  of  showing  Henry  the  love  of  a  youthful  wife,  she 
keeps  away  from  him  night  and  day.  There  is  even  cause 
to  fear,"  they  added,  "  that  she  is  in  concert  with  certain 
individuals  who  have  formed  the  horrible  design  of  killing 
the  king  and  the  cardinal." J  But  persons  of  generous 

*  Sua  bcatitudine  ricorda,  che  il  procedere  sia  lento  ed  in  modo  alcuno 
non  si  venghi  al  giudicio.  To  Card.  Campeggio,  29th  May  1529.  Lett, 
di  Principi. 

•f-  So  in  illos  tanquam  judices  suos  uon  assentire,  rvd  papam  provocavit, 
Sanders,  p.  32. 

J  Burnet's  Kef.  i.  p.  54. 


438  A  ROYAL  SITTING. 

heart,  seeing  only  a  queen,  a  wife,  and  a  mother,  attacked 
in  her  dearest  affections,  showed  themselves  full  of  sympathy 
for  her. 

On  the  21st  of  June,  the  day  to  which  the  court  adjourned, 
the  two  legates  entered  the  parliament  chamber  with  all  the 
pomp  belonging  to  their  station,  and  took  their  seats  on  a 
raised  platform.  Near  them  sat  the  bishops  of  Bath  and 
Lincoln,  the  abbot  of  Westminster,  and  Doctor  Taylor, 
master  of  the  Rolls,  whom  they  had  added  to  their  commis- 
sion. Below  them  were  the  secretaries,  among  whom  the 
skilful  Stephen  Gardiner  held  the  chief  rank.  On  the  right 
hung  a  cloth  of  estate  where  the  king  sat  surrounded  by  his 
officers;  and  on  the  left,  a  little  lower,  was  the  queen,  at- 
tended by  her  ladies.  The  archbishop  of  Canterbury  and 
the  bishops  were  seated  between  the  legates  and  Henry 
VIIL,  and  on  both  sides  of  the  throne  were  stationed  the 
counsellors  of  the  king  and  queen.  The  latter  were  Fisher, 
bishop  of  Rochester,  Standish  of  St  Asaph,  West  of  Ely,  and 
Doctor  Ridley.  The  people,  when  they  saw  this  procession 
ilefile  before  them,  were  far  from  being  dazzled  by  the  pomp. 
"  Less  show  and  more  virtue,"  they  said,  "  would  better 
become  such  judges." 

The  pontifical  commission  having  been  read,  the  legates 
declared  that  they  would  judge  without  fear  or  favour,  and 
would  admit  of  neither  recusation  nor  appeal.*  Then  the 
usher  cried :  "  Henry,  king  of  England,  come  into  court." 
The  king,  cited  in  his  own  capital  to  accept  as  judges  two 
priests,  his  subjects,  repressed  the  throbbing  of  his  proud 
heart,  and  replied,  in  the  hope  that  this  strange  trial  would 
have  a  favourable  issue :  "  Here  I  am."  The  usher  con- 
tinued: "Catherine,  queen  of  England,  come  into  court." 
The  queen  handed  the  cardinals  a  paper  in  which  she  pro- 
tested against  the  legality  of  the  court,  as  the  judges  were 
the  subjects  of  her  opponent,-]-  and  appealed  to  Rome.  The 
cardinals  declared  they  could  not  admit  this  paper,  and  con- 

*  The  king's  letter  to  his  ambassadors  at  Rome,  23d  June.  Burnet's 
Ref.,  Records,  p.  liv. 

t  Personas  judicum  non  solum  regi  devinctas  ver am  et  subjccUw  esse. 
Sanders,  p.  35. 


THE  QUEEJTS  APPEAL  TO  THE  KING.  439 

sequeutly  Catherine  was  again  called  into  court.  At  this 
second  summons  she  rose,  devoutly  crossed  herself,  made 
the  circuit  of  the  court  to  where  the  king  sat,  bending  with 
dignity  as  she  passed  in  front  of  the  legates,  and  fell  on  her 
knees  before  her  husband.  Every  eye  was  turned  upon  her. 
Then  speaking  in  English,  but  with  a  Spanish  accent,  which 
by  recalling  the  distance  she  was  from  her  native  home, 
pleaded  eloquently  for  her,  Catherine  said  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  and  in  a  tone  at  once  dignified  and  impassioned : 

"  SIR, — I  beseech  you,  for  all  the  love  that  hath  been  be- 
tween us,  and  for  the  love  of  God,  let  me  have  justice  and 
right;  take  some  pity  on  me,  for  I  am  a  poor  woman  and  a 
stranger,  born  out  of  your  dominions.  I  have  here  no 
assured  friend,  much  less  impartial  counsel,  and  I  flee  to  you 
as  to  the  head  of  justice  within  this  realm.  Alas  I  Sir, 
wherein  have  I  offended  you,  or  what  occasion  given  you  of 
displeasure,  that  you  should  wish  to  put  me  from  you  ?  I 
take  God  and  all  the  world  to  witness,  that  I  have  been  to 
you  a  true,  humble,  and  obedient  wife,  ever  conformable  to 
your  will  and  pleasure.  Never  have  I  said  or  done  aught 
contrary  thereto,  being  always  well  pleased  and  content  with 
all  things  wherein  you  had  delight;  neither  did  I  ever  grudge 
in  word  or  countenance,  or  show  a  visage  or  spark  of  dis- 
content. I  loved  all  those  whom  you  loved,  only  for  your 
sake.  This  twenty  years  I  have  been  your  true  wife,  and 
by  me  ye  have  had  divers  children,  although  it  hath  pleased 
God  to  call  them  out  of  this  world,  which  yet  hath  been  no 
default  in  me." 

The  judges,  and  even  the  most  servile  of  the  courtiers, 
were  touched  when  they  heard  these  simple  and  eloquent 
words,  and  the  queen's  sorrow  moved  them  almost  to  tears. 
Catherine  continued : — 

"  SIR, — When  ye  married  me  at  the  first,  I  take  God  to  be 
my  judge  I  was  a  true  maid ;  and  whether  it  be  true  or  not, 

I  put  it  to  your  conscience If  there  be  any  just  cause 

that  ye  can  allege  against  me,  1  am  contented  to  depart 
from  your  kingdom,  albeit  to  my  great  shame  and  dishon- 
our ;  and  if  there  be  none,  then  let  me  remain  in  my  former 
estate  until  death.  Who  united  us?  ThO  king,  your 


440  THE  QUEEN  WITHDRAWS. 

father,  who  was  called  the  second  Solomon;. and  my  father, 
Ferdinand,  who  was  esteemed  one  of  the  wisest  princes  that, 
for  many  years  before,  had  reigned  in  Spain.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  to  be  doubted  that  the  marriage  between  you  and 
me  is  good  and  lawful.  Who  are  my  judges?  Is  not  one 

the  man  that  has  put  sorrow  between  you  and  me?* a 

judge  whom  I  refuse  and  abhor! — Who  are  the  counsellors 
assigned  me?  Are  they  not  officers  of  the  crown,  wl.o  have 

made  oath  to  you  in  your  own  council? Sir,  I  conjure 

you  not  to  call  me  before  a  court  so  formed.  Yet,  if  you 

refuse  me  this  favour your  will  be  done I  shall  be 

silent,  I  shall  repress  the  emotions  of  my  soul,  and  remit  my 
just  cause  to  the  hands  of  God." 

Thus  spoke  Catherine  through  her  tears;-}-  humbly  bend- 
ing, she  seemed  to  embrace  Henry's  knees.  She  rose  and 
made  a  low  obeisance  to  the  king.  It  was  expected  that  she 
would  return  to  her  seat ;  but  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Griffiths, 
her  receiver-general,  she  moved  towards  the  door.  The 
king,  observing  this,  ordered  her  to  be  recalled ;  and  the 
usher  following  her,  thrice  cried  aloud :  "  Catherine,  queen 
of  England,  come  into  court." — "Madam,"  said  Griffiths, 
"  you  are  called  back." — "  I  hear  it  well  enough,"  replied  the 
queen,  "  but  go  you  on,  for  this  is  no  court  wherein  I  can 
have  justice :  let  us  proceed."  Catherine  returned  to  the 
palace,  and  never  again  appeared  before  the  court  either  by 
proxy  or  in  person.  | 

She  had  gained  her  cause  in  the  minds  of  many.  The 
dignity  of  her  person,  the  quaint  simplicity  of  her  speech,  the 
propriety  with  which,  relying  .upon  her  innocence,  she  had 
spoken  of  the  most  delicate  subjects,  and  the  tears  which  be- 
trayed her  emotion,  had  created  a  deep  impression.  But 
"the  sting  in  her  speech,"  as  an  historian  says,§  was  her 
appeal  to  the  king's  conscience,  and  to  the  judgment  of  Al- 
mighty God,  on  the  capital  point  in  the  cause.  "  How  could 

*  Q,ni  dissensionem  inter  ipsam  et  virum  suum.     Polyd.  Virg.  p.  688. 
f  Haec  ilia  flebiliter  dicente.     Ibid.  p.  686,  and  Cavendish. 
J  Burnet,  Records,  p.  36.    In  this  letter  the  king  says  :  Both  we  aud 
the  queen  appealed  in  person. 
§  Fuller,  p.  173. 


EMBARRASSMENT  OP  HENRY  AND  WOLSEY.      441 

a  person  so  modest,  so  sober  in  her  language,"  said  many, 
"dare  utter  such. a  falsehood?  Besides,  the  king  did  not 
contradict  her." 

Henry  was  greatly  embarrassed:  Catherine's  words  had 
moved  him.  Catherine's  defence,  one  of  the  most  touching 
in  history,  had  gained  over  the  accuser  himself.  He  there- 
fore felt  constrained  to  render  this  testimony  to  the  accused: 
"  Since  the  queen  has  withdrawn,  I  will,  in  her  absence, 
declare  to  you  all  present,  that  she  has.  been  to  me  as  true 
and  obedient  a  wife  as  I  could  desire.  She  has  all  the  vir- 
tues and  good  qualities  that  belong  to  a  woman.  She  is  as 
noble  in  character  as  in  birth." 

But  "Wolsey  was  the  most  embarrassed  of  all.  When  the 
queen  had%said,  without  naming  him,  that  one  of  her  judges 
was  the  cause  of  all  her  misfortunes,  looks  of  indignation 
were  turned  upon  him.*  He  was  unwilling  to  remain  under 
the  weight  of  this  accusation.  AS  soon  as  the  king  had 
finished  speaking,  he  said :  "  Sir,  I  humbly  beg  your  ma- 
jesty to  declare  before  this  audience,  whether  I  was  the  first 
or  chief  mover  in  this  business."  Wolsey  had  formerly 
boasted  to  Du  Bellay,  "  that  the  first  project  of  the  divorce 
was  set  on  foot  by  himself,  to  create  a  perpetual  separation 
between  the  houses  of  England  and  Spain;-}-  but  now  it 
suited  him  to  affirm  the  contrary.  The  king,  who  needed 
his  services,  took  care  not  to  contradict  him.  "  My  lord 
cardinal,"  he  said,  "  I  can  well  excuse  you  herein.  Marry, 
so  far  from  being  a  mover,  ye  have  been  rather  against  me 
in  attempting  thereof.  It  was  the  bishop  of  Tarbes,  the 
French  ambassador,  who  begot  the  first  scruples  in  my  con- 
science by  his  doubts  on  the  legitimacy  of  the  Princess 
Mary."  This  was  not  correct.  The  bishop  of  Tarbes  was 
not  in  England  before  the  year  1527,  and  we  have  proofs 
that  the  king  was  meditating  a  divorce  in  1526. |  "From 

*  Vidisses  Wolseum  infestis  fere  omnium  oculis  conspici.  Polyd.  Virg. 
p.  688. 

f  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,p.  186, 319. 

J  See  Pace's  letter  to  Henry  in  1526.  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  1.  Pace 
there  shows  that  it  is  incorrect  to  say  :  Deutcronomium  abrogate  Leviti- 
ctim  (Deuteronomy  abrogates  Leviticus),  so  far  as  concerns  the  prohibi- 
tion to  take  the  wife  of  a  deceased  brother. 

T2 


442  HENRY  JUSTIFIES  HIMSELF. 

that  hour,"  he  continued,  "  I  was  much  troubled,  and  thought 
myself  in  danger  of  God's  heavy  displeasure,  who,  wishing 
to  punish  my  incestuous  marriage,  had  taken  away  all  the 
sons  my  wife  had  borne  me.  I  laid  my  grief  before  you,  my 
lord  of  Lincoln,  then  being  my  ghostly  father ;  and  by  your 
advice  I  asked  counsel  of  the  rest  of  the  bishops,  and  you  all 
informed  me  under  your  seals,  that  you  shared  in  my  scru- 
ples."— "  That  is  the  truth,"  said  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury.— "  No,  Sir,  not  so,  under  correction,"  quoth  the  bishop 
of  Rochester,  "  you  have  not  my  hand  and  seal." — "  No  ?  " 
exclaimed  the  king,  showing  him  a  paper  which  he  held  in 
his  hand;  "is  not  this  your  hand  and  seal?" — "No,  for- 
sooth," he  answered.  Henry's  surprise  increased,  and  turn- 
ing with  a  frown  to  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  he  asked 
him:  "  What  say  you  to  that?"  "  Sir,  it  is  his  hand  and 
seal,"  replied  Warham. — "  It  is  not,"  rejoined  Rochester ; 
"  I  told  you  I  would  never  consent  to  any  such  act." — "  You 
say  the  truth,"  responded  the  archbishop,  "  but  you  were 
fully  resolved  at  the  last,  that  I  should  subscribe  your  name 
and  put  your  seal." — "  All  which  is  untrue,"  added  Roches- 
ter, in  a  passion.  The  bishop  was  not  very  respectful  to  his 
primate.  "  Well,  well,"  said  the  king,  wishing  to  end  the 
dispute,  "  we  will  not  stand  in  argument  with  you ;  for  you 
are  but  one  man."*  The  court  adjourned.  The  day  had 
been  better  for  Catherine  than  for  the  prelates. 

In  proportion  as  the  first  sitting  had  been  pathetic,  so  the 
discussions  in  the  second  between  the  lawyers  and  bishops 
were  calculated  to  revolt  a  delicate  mind.  The  advocates  of 
the  two  parties  vigorously  debated  pro  and  con  respecting 
the  consummation  of  Arthur's  marriage  with  Catherine. 
"It  is  a  very  difficult  question,"  said  one  of  the  counsel; 
„  none  can  know  the  truth." — "  But  I  know  it,"  replied  the 
bishop  of  Rochester. — "What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Wol- 
sey. — "  My  lord,"  he  answered,  "  he  was  the  very  Truth  who 
said :  What  God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asun- 
der :  that  is  enough  for  me." — "  So  everybody  thinks,"  re- 
joined Wolsey ;  "  but  whether  it  was  God  who  united  Henry 
of  England  and  Catherine  of  Aragon,  hoc  restat  probandum, 
*  Cavendish's  Wolsciy.  p.  223. 


MESSAGE  OP  THE  MAID  OF  KENT.          443 

thai  remains  to  be  proved.  The  king's  council  decides  that 
the  marriage  is  unlawful,  and  consequently  it  was  not  God 
icho  joined  them  together"  The  two  bishops  then  exchanged 
a  few  words  less  edifying  than  those  of  the  preceding  day. 
Several  of  the  hearers  expressed  a  sentiment  of  disgust. 
"  It  is  a  disgrace  to  the  court,"  said  Doctor  Ridley  with  no 
little  indignation,  "that  you  dare  discuss. questions  which 
fill  every  right-minded  man  with  horror."  This  sharp  repri- 
mand put  an  end  to  the  debate. 

The  agitations  of  the  court  spread  to  the  convents;  priests, 
monks,  and  nuns  were  everywhere  in  commotion.  It  was 
not  long  before  astonishing  revelations  began  to  circulate 
through  the  cloisters.  There  was  no  talk  then  of  an  old 
portrait  of  the  Virgin  that  winked  its  eyes  ;  but  other  mira- 
cles were  invented.  "  An  angel,"  it  was  rumoured,  "  has 
appeared  to  Elizabeth  Barton,  the  maid  of  Kent,  as  he  did 
formerly  to  Adam,  to  the  patriarchs,  and  to  Jesus  Christ." 
At  the  epochs  of  the  creation  and  of  the  redemption,  and  in 
the  times  which  lead  from  one  to  the  other,  miracles  are 
natural ;  God  then  appeared,  and  his  coming  without  any 
signs  of  power,  would  be  as  surprising  as  the  rising  of  the 
sun  unattended  by  its  rays  of  light.  But  the  Romish  Church 
does  not  stop  there ;  it  claims  in  every  age,  for  its  saints,  the 
privilege  of  miraculous  powers,  and  the  miracles-are  multi- 
plied in  proportion  to  the  ignorance  of  the  people.  And  ac- 
cordingly the  angel  said  to  the  epileptic  maid  of  Kent :  "  Go 
to  the  unfaithful  king  of  England,  and  tell  him  there  are 
three  things  he  desires,  which  I  forbid  now  and  for  ever. 
The  first  is  the  power  of  the  pope ;  the  second  the  new  dbc- 
trine ;  the  third  Anne  Boleyn.  If  he  takes  her  for  his  wife, 
God  will  visit  him."  The  vision-seeing  maid  delivered  the 
message  to  the  king,*  whom  nothing  could  now  stop. 

On  the  contrary,  he  began  to  find  out  that  Wolsey  pro- 
ceeded too  slowly,  and  the  idea  sometimes  crossed  his  mind 
that  he  was  betrayed  by  this  minister.  One  fine  summer's 
morning,  Henry  as  soon  as  he  rose  summoned  the  cardinal 
to  him  at  Bridewell.  Wolsey  hastened  thither,  and  remained 

*  She  showed  this  unto  the  king.    Letter  to  Cromwell  in  Strypc,  vol.i. 
0.272. 


444  THE  LEGATES  VISIT  THE  QUEEN. 

closeted  with  the  king  from  eleven  till  twelve.  The  latter 
gave  way  to  all  the  fury  of  his  passion  and  the  violence  of 
his  despotism.  "  We  must  finish  this  matter  promptly,"  he 
said,  "  we  must  positively."  "Wolsey  retired  very  uneasy, 
and  returned  by  the  Thames  to  Westminster.  The  sun 
darted  his  bright  rays  on  the  water.  The  bishop  of  Carlisle, 
who  sat  by  the  cardinal's  side,  remarked,  as  he  wiped  his 
forehead :  "  A  very  warm  day,  my  lord." — "  Yes,"  replied 
the  unhappy  Wolsey,  "  if  you  had  been  chafed  for  an  hour 
as  I  have  been,  you  would  say  it  was  a  hot  day."  When  he 
reached  his  palace,  the  cardinal  lay  down  on  his  bed  to  seek 
repose ;  he  was  not  quiet  long. 

Catherine  had  grown  in  Henry's  eyes,  as  well  as  in  those 
of  the  nation.  The  king  shrank  from  a  judgment;  he  even 
began  to  doubt  of  his  success.  He  wished  that  the  queen 
would  consent  to  a  separation.  This  idea  occurred  to  his 
mind  after  Wolsey's  departure,  and  the  cardinal  had  hardly 
closed  his  eyes  before  the  earl  of  Wiltshire  (Anne  Boleyn's 
father)  was  announced  to  him  with  a  message  from  the  king. 
"  It  is  his  majesty's  pleasure,"  said  Wiltshire,  "  that  you 
represent  to  the  queen  the  shame  that  will  accrue  to  her 
from  a  judicial  condemnation,  and  persuade  her  to  confide  in 
his  wisdom."  Wolsey,  commissioned  to  execute  a  task  he 
knew  to  be"  impossible,  exclaimed :  "  Why  do  you  put  such 
fancies  in  the  king's  head?"  and  then  he  spoke  so  reproach- 
fully that  Wiltshire,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  fell  on  his  knees 
beside  the  cardinal's  bed.*  Boleyn,  desirous  of  seeing  his 
daughter  queen  of  England,  feared  perhaps  that  he  had  taken 
a  wrong  course.  "  It  is  well,"  said  the  cardinal,  recollecting 
that  the  message  came  from  Henry  VIII.,  "  I  am  ready  to 
do  every  thing  to  please  his  majesty."  He  rose,  went  to 
Bath  Place  to  fetch  Campeggio,  and  together  they  waited  on 
the  queen. 

The  tAvo  legates  found  Catherine  quietly  at  work  with  her 
maids  of  honour.  Wolsey  addressed  the  queen  in  Latin? 
"  Nay,  my  lord,"  she  said,  "  speak  to  me  in  English ;  I  wish 
all  the  world  could  hear  you."—-"  We  desire,  madam,  to 
communicate  to  you  alone  our  counsel  and  opinion." — "  My 
•  Cavendish,  p.  226. 


THE  LEGATES  VISIT  THE  QUEEN.  445 

lord,"  said  the  queen,  "  you  are  come  to  speak  of  things 
beyond  my  capacity ;"  and  then,  with  noble  simplicity,  show- 
ing a  skein  of  red  silk  hanging  about  her  neck,  she  continued : 
"  These  are  my  occupations,  and  all  that  I  am  capable  of. 
I  am  a  poor  woman,  without  friends  in  this  foreign  country, 
and  lacking  wit  to  answer  persons  of  wisdom  as  ye  be ;  and 
yet,  my  lords,  to  please  you,  let  us  go  to  my  withdrawing 
room." 

At  these  words  the  queen  rose,  and  Wolsey  gave  her  his 
hand.  Catherine  earnestly  maintained  her  rights  as  a  wo- 
man and  a  queen.  "  We  who  were  in  the  outer  chamber," 
says  Cavendish,  "  from  time  to  time  could  hear  the  queen 
speaking  very  loud,  but  could  not  understand  what  she  said." 
Catherine,  instead  of  justifying  herself,  boldly  accused  her 
judge.  "  I  know,  Sir  Cardinal,"  she  said  with  noble  candour, 
"  I  know  who  has  given  the  king  the  advice  he  is  following: 
it  is  you.  I  have  not  ministered  to  your  pride — I  have 
blamed  your  conduct — I  have  complained  of  your  tyranny, 

and  my  nephew  the  emperor  has  not  made  you  pope 

Hence  all  my  misfortunes.  To  revenge  yourself  you  have 
kindled  a  war  in  Europe,  and  have  stirred  up  against  me 

this  most  wicked  matter.     God  will  be  my  judge and 

yours ! "  Wolsey  would  have  replied,  but  Catherine  haughtily 
refused  to  hear  him,  and  while  treating  Campeggio  with 
great  civility,  declared  that  she  would  not  acknowledge  either 
of  them  as  her  judge.  The  cardinals  withdrew,  Wolsey  full 
of  vexation,  and  Campeggio  beaming  with  joy,  for  the  busi- 
ness was  getting  more  complicated.  Every  hope  of  accom- 
modation was  lost:  nothing  temained  now  but  to  proceed 
judicially. 


446  THE  TRIAL  RESUMED. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Tie  Trial  resumed— Catherine  summoned— Twelve  Articles— The  Wit- 
nesses' Evidence— Arthur  and  Catherine  really  married— Cam  peggio 
opposes  the  Argument  of  Divine  Right — Other  Arguments — The  Legates 
required  to  deliver  Judgment— Their  Tergiversations— Change  in  Men's 
Minds— Final  Session  —  General  Expectation — Adjournment  during 
Harvest— Campeggio  excuses  this  Impertinence — The  King's  Indigna- 
tion—Suffolk's Violence — Wolsey's  Reply — He  is  ruined— General  Ac- 
cusations— The  Cardinal  turns  to  an  Episcopal  Life. 

THE  trial  was  resumed.  The  bishop  of  Bath  and  "Wells 
waited  upon  the  queen  at  Greenwich,  and  peremptorily  sum- 
moned her  to  appear  in  the  parliament-chamber.*  On  thfi 
day  appointed  Catherine  limited  herself  to  sending  an  ap- 
peal to  the  pope.  She  was  declared  contumacious,  and 
the  legates  proceeded  with  the  cause. 

Twelve  articles  were  prepared,  which  were  to  serve  for  the 
examination  of  the  witnesses,  and  the  summary  of  which 
was,  that  the  marriage  of  Henry  with  Catherine,  being  for- 
bidden both  by  the  law  of  God  and  of  the  church,  was  null 
and  void.-}- 

The  hearing  of  the  witnesses  began,  and  Dr  Taylor,  arch- 
deacon of  Buckingham,  conducted  the  examination.  Their 
evidence,  which  would  now  be  taken  only  with  closed  doors, 
may  be  found  in  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury's  History  of 
Henry  VIII.  The  duke  of  Norfolk,  high-treasurer  of  Eng- 
land, the  duke  of  Suffolk,  Maurice  St  John,  gentleman- 
carver  to  Prince  Arthur,  the  viscount  Fitzwalter  and  An- 
thony Willoughby,  his  cup-bearers,  testified  to  their  being 
present  on  the  morrow  of  the  wedding  at  the  breakfast  of 
the  prince,  then  in  sound  health,  and  reported  the  conversa- 
tion that  took  place.j:  The  old  duchess  of  Norfolk,  the  carl 

*  In  quadam  superior!  camera:  the  queen's  dinmg-chamber,  nuncupata, 
26  die  mensis  junii.  Rymor,  Acta,  p.  119. 

•f  Divino,  ecclcsiastieo  jure nullo  omnino  et  invalidum.  Herbert 

p.  2G3. 

4:  Quod  Arthurus  mano  postridie  potum  flagitaret,  idque  ut,  aiebant 
quoniam  diceret  se  ilia  nocte  in  calida  Hispani^rum  regione  peregrinatum 
fuisso.  Sanders,  p.  43. 


ARGUMENTS  OF  TUB  KIKG'S  COUNSEL.  447 

of  Shrewsbury,  and  the  marquis  of  Dorset,  confirmed  these 
declarations,  which  proved  that  Arthur  and  Catherine  were 
really  married.  It  was  also  called  to  mind  that,  at  the  time 
of  Arthur's  death,  Henry  was  not  permitted  to  take  the  title 
of  prince  of  Wales,  because  Catherine  hoped  to  give  an  heir 
to  the  crown  of  England.* 

"  If  Arthur  and  Catherine  were  really  married,"  said  the 
king's  counsellors  after  these  extraordinary  depositions,  "  the 
marriage  of  this  princess  with  Henry,  Arthur's  brother,  was 
forbidden  by  the  divine  law,  by  an  express  command  of  God 
contained  in  Leviticus,  and  no  dispensation  could  permit 
what  God  had  forbidden."  Campeggio  would  never  concede 
this  argument,  which  limited  the  right  of  the  popes ;  it  was 
necessary  therefore  to  abandon  the  divine  right  (which  was 
in  reality  to  lose  the  cause),  and  to  seek  in  the  bull  of  Julius 
II.  and  in  his  famous  brief,  for  flaws  that  would  invalidate 
them  both;-)-  and  this  the  king's  counsel  did,  although  they 
did  not  conceal  the  weakness  of  their  position.  "  The  motive 
alleged  in  the  dispensation,"  they  said,  "  is  the  necessity  of 
preserving  a  cordial  relation  between  Spain  and  England ; 
now,  there  was  nothing  that  threatened  their  harmony. 
Moreover,  it  is  said  in  this  document  that  the  pope  grants  it 
at  the  prayer  of  Henry,  prince  of  Wales.  Now  as  this  prince 
was  only  thirteen  years  old,  he  was  not  of  age  to  make  such 
a  request.  As  for  the  brief,  it  is  found  neither  in  England 
nor  in  Rome ;  we  cannot  therefore  admit  its  authenticity." 
It  was  not  difficult  for  Catherine's  friends  to  invalidate  these 
objections.  "  Besides,"  they  added,  "  a  union  that  has  lasted 
twenty  years  sufficiently  establishes  its  own  lawfulness. 
And  will  you  declare  the  Princess  Mary  illegitimate,  to  the 
great  injury  of  this  realm?" 

The  king's  advocates  then  changed  their  course.  Was 
not  the  Roman  legate  provided  with  a  decretal  pronouncing 
the  divorce,  in  case  it  should  be  proved  that  Arthur's  mar- 
riage had  been  really  consummated?  Now,  this  fact  had  been 
proved  by  the  depositions.  "  This  is  the  moment  for  de- 
livering judgment,"  said  Henry  and  his  counsellors  to  Cam- 
peggio. "  Publish  the  pope's  decretal."  But  the  pope  feared 

*  Fexe,  v.  p.  51.  f  Herbert  Rives  them  at  length,  p.  264-267. 


448  DIFFERENT  OPINIONS. 

the  sword  of  Charles  V.,  then  hanging  over  his  head ;  and 
accordingly,  .whenever  the  king  advanced  one  step,  the  Ro- 
mish prelate  took  several  in  an  opposite  direction.  "  I  will 
deliver  judgment  in  five  days,"  said  lie ;  and  when  the  five 
days  were  expired,  he^bound  himself  to  deliver  it  in  six. 
"  Restore  peace  to  my  troubled  conscience,"  exclaimed  Hanry. 
The  legate  replied  in  courtly  phrase ;  he  had  gained  a  few 
days'  delay,  and  that  was  all  he  desired. 

Such  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  legate  produced 
an  unfavourable  effect  in  England,  and  a  change  took  place 
in  the  public  mind.  The  first  movement  had  been  for 
Catherine;  the  second  was  for  Henry.  Clement's  endless 
delays  and  Campeggio's  stratagems  exasperated  the  nation. 
The  king's  argument  was  simple  and  popular :  "  The  pope 
cannot  dispense  with  the  laws  of  God ;"  while  the  queen,  by 
appealing  to  the  authority  of  the  Roman  pontiff,  displeased 
both  high  and  low.  "  No  precedent,"  said  the  lawyers,  "  can 
justify  the  king's  marriage  with  his  brother's  widow." 

There  were,  however,  some  evangelical  Christians  who 
thought  Henry  was  "  troubled  *  more  by  his  passions  than 
by  his  conscience ;  and  they  asked  how  it  happened  that  a 
prince,  who  represented  himself  to  be  so  disturbed  by  the 
possible  transgression  of  a  law  of  doubtful  interpretation, 
could  desire,  after  twenty  years,  to  violate  the  indisputable 

law  which  forbade  the  divorce? On  the  21st  of  July,  the 

day  fixed  ad  concludendum,  the  cause  was  adjourned  until 
the  Friday  following,  and  no  one  doubted  that  the  matter 
would  then  be  terminated. 

All  prepared  for  this  important  day.  The  king  ordered 
the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  to  be  present  at  the  sitting, 
of  the  court;  and  being  himself  impatient  to  hear  the  so 
much  coveted  judgment,  he  stole  into  a  gallery  of  the  par- 
liament chamber  facing  the  judges. 

The  legates  of  the  holy  see  having  taken  their  seats,  the 
attorney-general  signified  to  them,  "  that  everything  neces- 
sary for  the  information  of  their  conscience  having  been 
judicially  laid  before  them,  that  day  had  been  fixed  for  the 
conclusion  of  the  trial."  There  was  a  pause;  every  one 
feeling  the  importance  of  this  judgment,  waited  for  it  with 


FINAL  ADJOUKNMENT — THE  LEGATE'S  REASONS.  449 

• 

impatience.  "  Either  tlie  papacy  pronounces  my  divorce 
from  Catherine,"  the  king  had  said,  "  or  I  shall  divorce  my- 
self from  the  papacy."  That  was  the  way  Henry  put  the 
question.  All  eyes,  and  particularly  the  king's,  were  turned 
on  the  judges ;  Campeggio  could  not  retreat ;  he  must  now 
Bay  yes  or  no.  For  some  time  he  was  silent.  He  knew  for 
certain  that  the  queen's  appeal  had  been  admitted  by 
Clement  VII.,  and  that  the  latter  had  concluded  an  alliance 
with  the  emperor.  It  was  no  longer  in  his  power  to  grant 
the  king's  request.  Clearly  foreseeing  that  a  no  would  per- 
haps forfeit  the  power  of  Rome  in  England,  while  a  yes 
might  put  an  end  to  the  plans  of  religious  emancipation 
which  alarmed  him  so  much,  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind 
to  say  either  yes  or  no. 

At  last  the  nuncio  rose  slowly  from  his  chair,  and  all  the 
assembly  listened  with  emotion  to  the  oracular  decision 
which  for  so  many  years  the  powerful  king  of  England  had 
sought  from  the  Roman  pontiff.  "  The  general  vacation  of 
the  harvest  and  vintage,"  he  said,  "  being  observed  every 
year  by  the  court  of  Rome,  dating  from  to-morrow  the  24th 
of  July,  the  beginning  of  the -dog-days,  we  adjourn,  to  some 
future  period,  the  conclusion  of  these  pleadings."  * 

The  auditors  were  thunderstruck.  "  What !  because  the 
malaria  renders  the  air  of  Rome  dangerous  at  the  end  of 
July,  and  compels  the  Romans  to  close  their  courts,  must  a 
trial  be  broken  off  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  when  its 
conclusion  is  looked  for  so  impatiently?"  The  people  hoped 
for  a  judicial  sentence,  and  they  were  answered  with  a  jest ; 
it  was  thus  Rome  made  sport  of  Christendom.  Campeggio, 
io  disarm  Henry's  wrath,  gave  utterance  to  some  noble  sen- 
timents; but  his  whole  line  of  conduct  raises  legitimate 
doubts  as  to  his  sincerity.  "  The  queen,"  he  said,  "  denies 
the  competency  of  the  court ;  I  must  therefore  make  my  re- 
port to  the  pope,  who  is  the  source  of  life  and  honour,  and 
wait  his  sovereign  orders.  I  have  not  come  so  far  to  please 
any  man,  be  he  king  or  subject.  I  am  an  old  man,  feeble 
and  sickly,  and  fear  none  but  the  Supreme  Judge,  before 

*  Ferisc  qenerales  messium  et  vindemiarum.  Herbert,  p.  278  ;  Caven- 
dish, p.  229. 

V.  20 


430  SUFFOLK'S  VIOLENCE. 

• 

whom  I  must  soon  appear.  I  therefore  adjourn  this  court 
until  the  1st  of  October." 

It  was  evident  that  this  adjournment  was  only  a  formality 
intended  to  signify  the  definitive  rejection  of  Henry's  de- 
mand. The  same  custom  prevails  in  the  British  legislature. 

The  king,  who  from  his  place  of  concealment  had  heard 
Campeggio's  speech,  could  scarcely  control  his  Indignation. 
He  wanted  a  regular  judgment ;  he  clung  to  forms ;  he  de- 
sired that  his  cause  should  pass  successfully  through  all  the 
windings  of  ecclesiastical  procedure,  and  yet  here  it  is 
wrecked  upon  the  vacations  of  the  Romish  court.  Henry 
was  silent,  however,  either  from  prudence,  or  because  sur- 
prise deprived  him  of  the  power  of  speech,  and  he  hastily 
left  the  gallery. 

Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and  the  other  courtiers,  did  not  follow 
him.  The  king  and  his  ministers,  the  peers  and  the  people, 
and  even  the  clergy,  were  almost  unanimous,  and  yet  the 
pope  pronounced  his  veto.  He  humbled  the  Defender  of 
the  Faith  to  flatter  the  author  of  the  sack  of  Rome,  This 
was  too  much.  The  impetuous  Suffolk  started  from  his 
seat,  struck  his  hand  violently  on  the  table  in  front  of  him, 
cast  a  threatening  look  upon  the  judges,  and  exclaimed :  "By 
the  mass,  the  old  saying  is  confirmed  to-day,  that  no  cardinal 
has  ever  brought  good  to  England."* — "  Sir,  of  all  men  in 
this  realm,"  replied  Wolsey,  "  you  have  the  least  cause  to 
disparage  cardinals,  for  if  I,  poor  cardinal,  had  not  been,  you 
would  not  have  a  head  on  your  shoulders."  -j-  It  would 
seem  that  Wolsey  pacified  Henry,  at  the  time  of  the  duke's 
marriage  with  the  Princess  Mary.  "  I  cannot  pronounce 
sentence,"  continued  "Wolsey,  "  without  knowing  the  good 
pleasure  of  his  holiness."  The  two  dukes  and  the  other 
noblemen  left  the  hall  in  anger,  and  hastened  to  the  palace.J 
The  legates,  remaining  with  their  officers,  looked  at  each 

*  Mensam  quse  proponebatur  magno  ictu  concutiens :  Per  sacram, 
inquit,  missam,  nemo  unquam  legatorum  aut  cardinalium  quicquam  boui 
ttd  Angliam  apportavit.  Sanders,  p.  49. 

f  Cavendish,  p.  233. 

J  Duces  ex  judicio  discedentes,  nt  ipsi  omnibus  iracundise  fiamrais 
orebantar.  Sanders,  p.  49. 


CHANGE  IN  THE  KING'S  MIND.  451 

other  for  a  few  moments.  At  last  Campeggio,  who  alone 
had  remained  calm  during  this  ?cene  of  violence,  arose,  and 
the  audience  dispersed. 

Henry  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  crushed  by  this  blow. 
Rome,  by  her  strange  proceedings,  aroused  in  him  that  sus- 
picious and  despotic  spirit,  of  which  he  gave  such  tragic 
proofs  in  after-years.  The  papacy  was  making  sport  of  him. 
Clement  and  Wolsey  tossed  his  divorce  from  one  to  the  other 
like  a  ball  which,  now  at  Rome  and  now  in  London,  seemed 
fated  to  remain  perpetually  in  the  air.  The  king  thought  he 
had  been  long  enough  the  plaything  of  his  holiness  and  of 
the  crafty  cardinal ;  his  patience  was  exhausted,  and  he  re- 
solved to  show  his  adversaries  that  Henry  VIII.  was  more 
than  a  match  for  these  bishops.  We  shall  find  him  seizing 
this  favourable  opportunity,  and  giving  an  unexpected  solu- 
tion to  the  matter. 

Wolsey  sorrowfully  hung  his  head  ;  by  taking  part  with 
the  nuncio  and  the  pope,  he  had  signed  the  warrant  of  his 
own  destruction.  So  long  as  Henry  had  a  single  ray  of 
hope,  he  thought  proper  still  to  dissemble  with  Clement  VII. ; 
but  he  might  vent  all  his  angeT  on  Wolsey.  From  the  period 
of  the  Roman  Vacations  the  cardinal  was  ruined  in  his 
master's  mind.  Wolsey's  enemies  seeing  his  favour  decline, 
hastened  to  attack  him.  Suffolk  and  Norfolk  in  particular, 
impatient  to  get  rid  of  an  insolent  priest  who  had  so  long 
chafed  their  pride,  told  Henry  that  Wolsey  had  been  con- 
tinually playing  false ;  they  went  over  all  his  negotiations 
month  by  month  and  day  by  day,  and  drew  the  most  over- 
whelming conclusions  from  them.  Sir  William  Kingston 
and  Lord  Manners  laid  before  the  king  one  of  the  cardinal's 
letters  which  Sir  Francis  Bryan  had  obtained  from  the  papal 
archives.  In  it  the  cardinal  desired  Clement  to  spin  out  the 
divorce  question,  and  finally  to  oppose  it,  seeing  (he  added) 
that  if  Henry  was  separated  from  Catherine,  a  friend  to  the 
reformers  would  become  queen  of  England.*  This  letter 
clearly  expressed  Wolsey's  inmost  thoughts :  Rome  at  any 

price and  perish  England  and  Henry  rather  than  the 

popedom !  We  can  imagine  the  king's  anger. 

*  Edm.  Campion  De  divortio.    Herbert,  p,  289. 


452  WOLHEY  ACCUSED  BY  ALL. 

Anne  Boleyn's  friends  were  not  working  alone.  There 
was  not  a  person  at  court  whom  Wolsey's  haughtiness  and 
tyranny  had  not  offended ;  no  one  in  the  king's  council  in 
whom  his  continual  intrigues  had  not  raised  serious  suspi- 
cions. He  had  (they  said)  betrayed  in  France  the  cause  of 
England;  kept  up  in  time  of  peace  an 3  war  secret  intelli- 
gence with  Madam,  mother  of  Francis  I.;  received  great 
presents  from  her  ;*  oppressed  the  nation,  and  trodden'  under 
foot  the  laws  of  the  kingdom.  The  people  called  him  .French- 
man and  traitor,  and  all  England  seemed  to  vie  in  throwing 
burning  brands  at  the  superb  edifice  which  the  pride  of  this 
prelate  bad  so  laboriously  erected.  -J- 

Wolsey  was  too  clearsighted  not  to  discern  the  signs  of 
his  approaching  fall.  "  Both  the  rising  and  the  setting  sun 
(for  thus  an  historian  calls  Anne  Boleyn  and  Catherine  of 
Aragon)  frowned  upon  him,"J  and  the  sky,  growing  darker 
around  him,  gave  token  of  the  storm  that  was  to  overwhelm 
him.  If  the  cause  failed,  Wolsey  incurred  the  vengeance  of 
*.he  king ;  if  it  succeeded,  he  would  be  delivered  up  to  the 
vengeance  of  the  Boleyns,  without  speaking  of  Catherine's, 
the  emperor's,  and  the  pope's.  Happy  Campeggio !  thought 
the  cardinal,  he  has  nothing  to  fear.  If  Henry's  favour  is 
withdrawn  from  him,  Charles  and  Clement  will  make  him 
compensation.  But  Wolsey  lost  everything  when  he  lost 
the  king's  good  graces.  Detested  by  his  fellow-citizens, 
despised  and  hated  by  all  Europe,  he  saw  to  whatever  side 
he  turned  nothing  but  the  just  reward  of  his  avarice  and 
falseness.  He  strove  in  vain,  as  on  other  occasions,  to  lean 
on  the  ambassador  of  France ;  Du  Bellay  was  solicited  on 
the  other  side.  "  I  am  exposed  here  to  such  a  heavy  and 
continual  fire  that  I  am  half  dead,"  exclaimed  the  bishop  of 
Bayonne ;  §  and  the  cardinal  met  with  an  unusual  reserve 
in  his  former  confidant. 

Yet  the  crisis  approached.  Like  a  skilful  but  affrighted 
pilot,  Wolsey  cast  his  eyes  around  him  to  discover  a  port 

*  Du  Bellay'a  Letters,  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  374. 

•f  Novis  etiam  furoris  et  insaniae  facibus  incenderunt.   Sanders,  p.  49. 

J  Fuller,  p.  176. 

§  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency,  15th  June.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  324. 


ANNE  BOLETN  AT  HEVER.  453 

in  winch  he  could  take  refuge.  He  could  find  none  but  his 
see  of  York.  He  therefore  began  once  more  tc  complain  of 
the  fatigues  of  power,  of  the  weariness  of  the  diplomatic 
career,  and  to  extol  the  sweetness  of  an  episcopal  life.  On 
a  sudden  he  felt  a  great  interest  about  the  flock  of  whom  he 
had  never  thought  before.  Those  around  him  shook  their 
heads,  well  knowing  that  such  a  rotreat  would  be  to  Wolsey 
the  bitterest  of  disgraces.  One  single  idea  supported  him ; 
if  he  fell,  it  would  be  because  he  had  clung  more  to  the  pope 
than  to  the  king :  he  would  be  the  martyr  of  his  faith. — 
What  a  faith,  what  a  martyr  1 


CHAPTER  X. 

Anne  Boleyn  at  Hever — She  reads  the  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man- 
ia recalled  to  Court — Miss  Gainsford  and  George  Zouch — Tyndale's 
Book  converts  Zouch — Zouch  in  the  Chapel-Royal — The  Book  seized 
—  Anne  applies  to  Henry — The  King  reads  the  Book — Pretended  In- 
fluence of  the  Book  on  Henry — The  Court  at  Woodstock — The  Park 
and  its  Goblins — Henry's  Esteem  for  Anne. 

WHILE  these  things  were  taking  place,  Anne  was  living  at 
Hever  Castle  in  retirement  and  sadness.  Scruples  from 
time  to  time  still  alarmed  her  conscience.  It  is  true,  the 
king  represented  to  her  unceasingly  that  his  salvation  and 
the  safety  of  his  people  demanded  the  dissolution  of  a  union 
condemned  by  the  divine  law,  and  that  what  he  solicited 
several  popes  had  granted.  Had  not  Alexander  VI.  an- 
nulled, after  ten  years,  the  marriage  of  Ladislaus  and  Bea- 
trice of  Naples?  Had  not  Louis  XII.,  tlte  father  of  his 
people,  been  divorced  Irom  Joan  of  France  ?  Nothing  was 
more  common,  he  said,  than  to  see  the  divorce  of  a  prince 
authorized  by  a  pope ;  the  security  of  the  state  must  be  pro- 
vided for  before  everything  else.  Carried  away  by  these 
arguments  and  dazzled  by  the  splendour  of  a  throne,  Anne 
Boleyn  consented  to  usurp  at  Henry's  side  the  rank  belong- 


454      ANNE  READS  THE  OBEDIENCE  OF  A  CHRISTIAN  MAN. 

ing  to  another.  Yet,  if  she  was  imprudent  and  ambitious, 
she  was  feeling  and  generous,  and  the  misfortunes  of  a  queen 
whom  she  respected  soon  made  her  reject  with  terror  the 
idea  of  taking  her  place.  The  fertile  pastures  of  Kent  and 
the  gothic  halls  of  Hever  Castle  were  by  turns  the  witnesses 
of  the  mental  conflicts  this  young  lady  experienced.  Thfc 
fear  she  entertained  of  seeing  the  queen  again,  and  the  idea 
that  the  two  cardinals,  her  enemies,  were  plotting  her  ruin, 
made  her  adopt  the  resolution  of  not  returning  to  court,  and 
she  shut  herself  up  in  her  solitary  chamber. 

Anne  had  neither  the  deep  piety  of  a  Bilney,  nor  the 
somewhat  vague  and  mystic  spirituality  observable  in  Mar- 
garet of  V? lois ;  it  was  not  feeling  which  prevailed  in  her 
religion,  it  was  knowledge,  and  a  horror  of  superstition  and 
pharisaism.  Her  mind  required  light  and  activity,  and  at 
that  time  she  sought  in  reading  the  consolations  so  neces- 
sary to  her  position.  One  day  she  opened  one  of  the  books 
prohibited  in  England,  which  a  friend  of  the  Reformation 
had  given  her:  The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man.  Its 
author  was  William  Tyndale,  that  invisible  man  whom 
Wolsey's  agents  were  hunting  for  in  Brabant  and  Germany, 
and  this  was  a  recommendation  to  Anne.  "  If  thou  believe 
the  promises,"  she  read,  "  then  God's  truth  justifieth  thee ; 
that  is,  forgiveth  thy  sins  and  sealeth  thee  with  his  Holy 
Spirit.  If  thou  have  true  faith,  so  seest  thou  the  exceeding 
and  infinite  love  and  mercy  which  God  hath  shown  thee 
freely  in  Christ :  then  must  thou  needs  love  again :  and 
love  cannot  but  compel  thee  to  work.  If  when  tyrants  op- 
pose thee  thou  have  power  to  confess,  then  art  thou  sure 
that  thou  art  safe.*  If  thou  be  fallen  from  the  way  of  truth, 
come  thereto  again  and  thou  art  safe.  Yea,  Christ  shall 
save  thee,  and  the  angels  of  heaven  shall  rejoice  at  thy  com- 
ing." -J-  These  words  did  not  change  Anne's  heart,  but  she 
marked  with  her  nail,  as  was  her  custom,:):  other  passages 
which  struck  her  more,  and  which  she  desired  to  point  out 
to  the  king  if,  as  she  hoped,  she  was  ever  to  meet  him  again. 

*  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  295. 
f  Tyndale's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  300. 
t  Wyatt's  Memoirs,  p.  438. 


ANNS  RECALLED  TO  COURT.  455 

She  believed  that  the  truth  was  there,  and  took  a  lively 
interest  in  those  whom  Wolsey,  Henry,  and  the  pope  were 
at  that  time  persecuting. 

Anne  was  soon  dragged  from  these  pious  lessons,  and 
•launched  into  the  midst  of  a  world  full  of  dangers.  Henry, 
convinced  that  he  had  nothing  to  ezpect  henceforward  from 
Campeggio,  neglected  those  proprieties  which  he  had  hither- 
to observed,  and  immediately  after  the  adjournment  ordered 
Anne  Boleyn  to  return  to  court;  he  restored  her  to  the 
place  she  had  formerly  occupied,  and  even  surrounded  her 
with  increased  splendour.  Every  one  saw  that  Anne,  in 
the  king's  mind,  was  queen  of  England ;  and  a  powerful 
party  was  formed  around  her  which  proposed  to  accomplish 
the  definitive  ruin  of  the  cardinal. 

After  her  return  to  court,  Anne  read  much  less  frequently 
The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man  and  the  Testament  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Henry's  homage,  her  friends'  intrigues,  and 
the  whirl  of  festivities,  bade  fair  to  stifle  the  thoughts  which 
solitude. had  aroused  in  her  heart.  One  day  having  left 
Tyndale's  book  in  a  window,  Miss  Gainsford,  a  fair  young 
gentlewoman*  attached  to  her  person,  took  it  up  and  read 
it.  A  gentleman  of  handsome  mien,  cheerful  temper,  and 
extreme  mildness,  named  George  Zouch,  also  belonging  to 
Anne's  household,  and  betrothed  to  Miss  Gainsford,  profit- 
ing by  the  liberty  his  position  gave  him,  indulged  sometimes 
in  "  love  tricks."-}-  On  one  occasion  when  George  desired  to 
have  a  little  talk  with  her,  he  was  annoyed  to  find  her 
absorbed  by  a  book  of  whose  contents  he  knew  nothing; 
and  taking  advantage  of  a  moment  when  the  young  lady 
had  turned  away  her  head,  he  laughingly  snatched  it  from 
her.  Miss  Gainsford  ran  after  Zouch  to  recover  her  book ; 
but  just  at  that  moment  she  heard  her  mistress  calling  her, 
and  she  left  George,  threatening  him  with  her  finger. 

As  she  did  not  return  immediately,  George  withdrew  to 
his  room,  and  opened  the  volume ;  it  was  the  Obedience  of 
a  Christian  Man.  He  glanced  over  a  few  lines,  then  a  few 
pages,  and  at  last  read  the  book  through  more  than  once. 
He  seemed  to  hear  the  voice  of  God.  "  I  feel  the  Spirit  of 
•  Strype,  i.  p.  171.  t  Ibid.  p.  172. 


456  ZOUCH  IN  THE  KING'S  CHAPEL. 

God,"  he  said,  "  speaking  in  my  heart  as  he  has  spoken  in 
the  heart  of  him  who  wrote  the  book."  *  The  words  which 
had  only  made  a  temporary  impression  on  the  preoccupied 
mind  of  Anne  Boleyn,  penetrated  to  the  heart  of  her  equerry 
and  converted  him.  Miss  Gainsford,  fearing  that  Anne 
would  ask  for  her  book,  entreated  George  to  restore  it  to 
her ;  but  he  positively  refused,  and  even  the  young  lady's 
tears  failed  to  make  him  give  up  a  volume  in  which  he  had 
found  the  life  of  his  e-oul.  Becoming  more  serious,  he  no 
longer  jested  as  before  ;  and  when  Miss  Gainsford  peremp- 
torily demanded  the  book,  he  was,  says  the  chronicler, 
"  ready  to  weep  himself." 

Zouch,  finding  in  this  volume  an  edification  which  empty 
forms  and  ceremonies  could  not  give,  used  to  carry  it  with 
him  to  the  king's  chapel.  Dr  Sampson,  the  dean,  generally 
officiated ;  and  while  the  choir  chanted  the  service,  George 
would  be  absorbed  in  his  book,  where  he  read :  "  If  when 
thou  seest  the  celebration  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  thou  believest  in  this  promise  of  Christ :  This  is  my 
body  that  is  broken  for  you,  and  if  thou  have  this  prainise 
fast  in  thine  heart,  thou  art  saved  and  justified  thereby; 
thou  eatest  his  body  and  drinkest  his  blood.  If  not,  so 
helpeth  it  thee  not,  though  thou  hearest  a  thousand  masses 
in  a  day :  no  more  than  it  should  help  thee  in  a  dead  thirst 
to  behold  a  bush  at  a  tavern  door,  if  thou  knewest  not 
thereby  that  there  was  wine  within  to  be  sold."-j-  The 
young  man  dwelt  upon  these  words :  by  faith  he  ate  the 
body  and  drank  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God.  This  was 
what  was  passing  in  the  palaces  of  Henry  VIII. ;  there 
were  saints  in  the  household  of  Caesar. 

Wolsey,  desirous  of  removing  from  the  court  everything 
that  might  favour  the  Reformation,  had  recommended  ex- 
treme vigilance  to  Dr  Sampson,  so  as  to  prevent  the  circula- 
tion of  the  innovating  books.  Accordingly,  one  day  when 
George  was  in  the  chapel  absorbed  in  his  book,  the  dean, 
who,  even  while  officiating,  had  not  lost  sight  of  the  young 
man,  called  him  to  him  after  the  service,  and  rudely  taking 
the  book  from  his  hands,  demanded  :  "  What  is  ycur  name, 
*  Strype,  i.  p.  172.  f  Tyndale  and  Fryth's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  203. 


ANNE  BOLEYN  BEFORE  THE  KING.  457 

and  in  whose  service  are  you  ?  "  Zouch  having  replied,  the 
dean  withdrew  with  a  very  angry  look,  and  carried  his  prey 
to  the  cardinal. 

When  Miss  Gainsford  heard  of  this  mishap,  her  grief  was 
extreme ;  she  trembled  at  the  thought  that  the  Obedience  of 
a  Christian  Man  was  in  Wolsey's  hands.  Not  long  after  this, 
Anne  having  asked  for  her  book,  the  young  lady  fell  on  her 
knees,  confessed  all,  and  begged  to  be  forgiven.*  Anne 
uttered  not  a  word  of  reproach  ;  her  quick  mind  saw  imme- 
diately the  advantage  she  might  derive  from  this  affair. 
"  Well,"  said  she,  "  it  shall  be  the  dearest  book  to  them  that 
ever  the  dean  or  cardinal  took  away." 

"  The  noble  lady,"  as  the  chronicler  styles  her,  immedi- 
ately demanded  an  interview  of  the  king,  and  on  reaching 
his  presence  she  fell  at  his  feet,  -j-  and  begged  his  assistance. 
"  What  is  the  matter,  Anne?"  said  the  astonished  monarch. 
She  told  him  what  had  happened,  and  Henry  promised  that 
the  book  should  not  remain  in  Wolsey's  hands. 

Anne  had  scarcely  quitted  the  royal  apartments  when  the 
cardinal  arrived  with  the  famous  volume,  with  the  intention 
of  complaining  to  Henry  of  certain  passages  which  he  knew 
could  not  fail  to  irritate  him,  and  to  take  advantage  of  it 
even  to  attack  Anne,  if  the  king  should  be  offended.  J 
Henry's  icy  reception  closed  his  mouth ;  the  king  confined 
himself  to  taking  the  book,  and  bowing  out  the  cardinal. 
This  was  precisely  what  Anne  had  hoped  for.  She  begged 
the  king  to  read  the  book,  which  he  promised  to  do. 

And  Henry  accordingly  shut  himself  up  in  his  closet,  and 
read  the  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man.  There  were  few 
works  better  calculated  to  enlighten  him,  and  none,  after  the 
Bible,  that  has  had  more  influence  upon  the  Reformation  in 
England.  Tyndale  treated  of  obedience,  "  the  essential 
principle,"  as  he  terms  it,  "  of  every  political  or  religious 
community."  He  declaimed  against  the  unlawful  power  of 
the  popes,  who  usurped  the  lawful  authority  of  Christ  and 
of  his  Word.  He  professed  political  doctrines  too  favour- 

*  She  on  her  knees  told  it  all.    Strype,  vol.  i.  p.  172. 

t  Upon  her  knees  she  desireth  the  king's  help  for  her  book.     Ibid. 

£  Wyatt's  Memoirs,  p.  441. 

20*  „ 


458          THE  KING  READS  TYNDALE's  BOOK. 

able  doubtless  to  absolute  power,  but  calculated  to  show 
that  the  reformers  were  not,  as  had  been  asserted,  insti- 
gators of  rebellion.  Henry  read  as  follows  : — 

"  The  king  is  in  the  room  of  God  in  this  world.  He  that 
resisteth  the  king,  resisteth  God ;  he  that  judgeth  the  king, 
judgeth  God.  He  is  the  minister  of  God  to  defend  thee 
from  a  thousand  inconveniences  ;  though  he  be  the  greatest 
tyrant  in  the  world,  yet  is  he  unto  thee  a  great  benefit  of 
God ;  for  it  is  better  to  pay  the  tenth  than  to  lose  all,  and 
to  suffer  wrong  of  one  man  than  of  every  man."* 

These  are  indeed  strange  doctrines  for  rebels  to  hold, 
thought  the  king ;  and  he  continued  : — 

"  Let  kings,  if  they  had  lever  [rather]  be  Christians  in 
deed  than  so  to  be  called,  give  themselves  altogether  to  the 
wealth  [well-being]  of  their  realms  after  the  ensample  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  remembering  that  the  people  are  God's,  and 
not  theirs ;  yea,  are  Christ's  inheritance,  bought  with  his 
blood.  The  most  despised  person  in  his  realm  (if  he  is  a 
Christian)  is  equal  with  him  in  the  kingdom  of  God  and  of 
Christ.  Let  the  king  put  off  all  pride,  and  become  a  brother 
to  the  poorest  of  his  subjects."  •}• 

It  is  probable  that  these  words  were  less  satisfactory  to 
the  king.  He  kept  on  reading : — 

"  Emperors  and  kings  are  nothing  now-a-days,  but  even 
hangmen  unto  the  pope  and  bishops,  to  kill  whomsoever 
they  condemn,  as  Pilate  was  unto  the  scribes  and  pharisees 
and  high  bishops  to  hang  Christ."  | 

This  seemed  to  Henry  rather  strong  language. 

"  The  pope  hath  received  no  other  authority  of  Christ  than 
to  preach  God's  word.  Now,  this  word  should  rule  only,  and 
not  bishops'  decrees  or  the  pope's  pleasure.  In  prcesentia 
majoris  cessat  potestas  minoris,  in  the  presence  of  the  greater 
the  less  hath  no  power.§  The  pope,  against  all  the  doctrine 
of  Christ,  which  saith,  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  hath 
usurped  the  right  of  the  emperor.  Kings  must  make  account 
of  their  doings  only  to  God.  ||  No  person  may  bo  exempt 

*  Tyndale's  Works,  edited  by  Russell,  vol.  i.  p.  212. 

t  Ibid.  p.  233.  *  Ibid.  p.  274. 

§  Ibid.  p.  243.  I  Ibid.  p.  220. 


AN  ERRONEOUS  JUDGMENT.  459 

from  this  ordinance  of  God ;  neither  can  the  profession  of 
monks  and  friars,  or  anything  that  the  popes  or  bishops  can 
lay  for  themselves,  except  them  from  the  sword  of  the  em- 
peror or  king,  if  they  break  the  laws.  For  it  is  written, 
(Rom.  xiii.)  Let  every  soul  submit  himself  unto  the  author- 
ity of  the  higher  powers."* 

"  What  excellent  reading !"  exclaimed  Henry,  when  he  had 
finished ;  "  this  is  truly  a  book  for  all  kings  to  read,  and  for 
me  particularly."  -J- 

Captivated  by  Tyndale's  work,  the  king  began  to  converse 
with  Anne  about  the  church  and  the  pope ;  and  she  who  had 
seen  Margaret  of  Valois  unassumingly  endeavour  to  instruct 
Francis  I.  strove  in  like  manner  to  enlighten  Henry  VIIL 
She  did  not  possess  the  influence  over  him  she  desired ;  this 
unhappy  prince  was,  to  the  very  end  of  his  life,  opposed  to 
the  evangelical  reformation ;  protestants  and  catholics  have 
been  equally  mistaken  when  they  have  regarded  him  as  be- 
ing favourable  to  it.  "  In  a  short  time,"  says  the  annalist 
quoted  by  Strype  at  the  end  of  his  narrative,  "  the  king,  by 
the  help  of  this  virtuous  lady,  had  his  eyes  opened  to  the 
truth.  He  learned  to  seek  after  that  truth,  to  advance  God's 
religion  and  glory,  to  detest  the  pope's  doctrine,  his  lies,  his 
pomp,  and  pride,  and  to  deliver  his  subjects  from  the  Egyp- 
tian darkness  and  Babylonian  bonds  that  the  pope  had 
brought  him  and  his  subjects  under.  Despising  the  rebellions 
of.  his  subjects  and  the  rage  of  so  many  mighty  potentates 
abroad,  he  set  forward  a  religious  reformation,  which,  begin- 
ning with  the  triple-crowned  head,  came  down  to  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  hierarchy."  History  has  rarely  delivered  a  more 
erroneous  judgment.  Henry's  eyes  were  never  opened  to  the 
truth,  and  it  was  not  he  who  made  the  Reformation.  IT 
was  accomplished  first  of  all  by  Scripture,  and  then  by  the 
ministry  of  simple  and  faithful  men  baptized  of  the  Holy 
Ghost. 

Yet  Tyndale's  book  and  the  conduct  of  the  legates  had 
given  rise  in  the  king's  mind  to  new  thoughts  which  he 
sought  time  to  mature.  He  desired  also  to  conceal  his  anger 
from  Wolsey  and  Campeggio,  and  dissipate  his  spleen,  says 

*  Tyndale'e  Works,  p.  213.  t  Strype,  i.  p.  i72. 


460  THE  COURT  AT  WOODSTOCK. 

the  historian  Collyer;  he  therefore  gave  orders  to  remove 
the  court  to  the  palace  of  Woodstock.  The  magnificent  park 
attached  to  this  royal  residence,  in  which  was  the  celebrated 
bower  constructed  (it  is  said)  by  Henry  II.  to  conceal  the 
fair  Rosamond,  offered  all  the  charms  of  the  promenade,  the 
chase,  and  solitude.*  Hence  he  could  easily  repair  to  Lang- 
ley,  Grafton,  and  other  country-seats.  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore the  entertainments,  horse-races,  and  other  rural  sports 
began.  The  world  with  its  pleasures  and  its  grandeur,  were 
at  the  bottom  the  idols  of  Anne  Boleyn's  heart ;  but  yet  she 
felt  a  certain  attraction  for  the  new  doctrine,  which  was  con- 
founded in  her  mind  with  the  great  cause  of  all  knowledge, 
perhaps  even  with  her  own.  More  enlightened  than  the 
generality  of  women,  she- was  distinguished  by  the  superiority 
of  her  understanding  not  only  over  her  own  sex,  but  even 
over  many  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  court.  While  Catherine, 
a  member  of  the  third  order  of  St  Francis,  indulged  in  trifling 
practices,  the  more  intelligent,  if  not  more  pious  Anne,  cared 
but  little  for  amulets  which  the  friars  had  blessed,  for  appari- 
tions, or  visions  of  angels.  Woodstock  furnished  her  with 
an  opportunity  of  curing  Henry  VIII.  of  the  superstitious 
ideas  natural  to  him.  There  was  a  place  in  the  forest  said 
to  be  haunted  by  evil  spirits ;  not  a  priest  or  a  courtier  dared 
approach  it.  A  tradition  ran  that  if  a  king  ventured  to  cross 
the  boundary,  he  would  fall  dead.  Anne  resolved  to  take 
Henry  there.  Accordingly,  one  morning  she  led  the  way  in 
the  direction  of  the  place  where  these  mysterious  powers 
manifested  their  presence  (as  it  was  said)  by  strange  appari- 
tions ;  they  entered  the  wood ;  they  arrived  at  the  so  much 
dreaded  spot ;  all  hesitated  -,  but  Anne's  calmness  reassured 

her  companions ;  they  advanced ;  they  found nothing  but 

trees  and  turf,  and,  laughing  at  their  former  terrors,  they 
explored  every  corner  of  this  mysterious  resort  of  the  evil 
spirits.  Anne  returned  to  the  palace,  congratulating  herself 
on  the  triumph  Henry  had  gained  over  his  imaginary  fears.-}- 

*  The  letters  from  the  king's  secretaries  Gardiner  and  Tuke  to  Wol- 
s«y,  dated  Woodstock,  run  from  4th  August  to  8th  September.  State 
Papers,  i.  p.  335-347. 

t  Foxe,  v.  p.  136  ;  Miss  Benger's  Life  of  Anne  Boleyn,  p.  299. 


EMBARRASSMENT  OF  THE  POPE.  461 

This  prince,  who  could  as  yet  bear  with  superiority  in  others, 
was  struck  with  Anne  Boleyn's. 

Never  too  gay  nor  yet  too  melancholy, 

A  heavenly  mind  is  hers,  like  angels  holy. 

None  purer  ever  soared  above  the  sky, 

O  mighty  marvel,  thus  may  every  eye 

See  of  what  monster  strange  the  humble  serf  am  I ; 

Monster  indeed,  for  in  her  frame  divine 

A  woman's  form,  man's  heart,  and  angel's  head  combine.* 

These  verses  of  Clement  Marot,  written  in  honour  of  Mar- 
garet of  Valois,  faithfully  express  what  Henry  then  felt  for 
Anne,  who  had  been  with  Marot  in  the  household  of  that 
princess.  Henry's  love  may  perhaps  have  deceived  him  as 
to  Anne's  excellencies. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Embarrassment  of  the  Pope— The  Triumphs  of  Charles  decide  him — Ho 
traverses  the  Cause  to  Rome— Wolsey's  Dejection— Henry's  Wrath — 
His  Fears — Wolsey  obtains  Comfort— Arrival  of  the  two  Legates  at 

'  Grafton — Wolsey's  Reception  by  Henry — Wolsey  and  Norfolk  at  Din- 
ner— Henry  with  Anne— Conference  between  the  King  and  the  Cardi- 
nal— Wolsey's  Joy  and  Grief— The  Supper  at  Euston — Campeggio's 
farewell  Audience — Wolsey's  Disgrace  — Campeggio  at  Dover— He  is 
accused  by  the  Courtiers— Leaves  England — Wolsey  foresees  his  own 
Fall  and  that  of  the  Papacy. 

WHILE  the  court  was  thus  taking  its  pleasure  at  Wood- 
stock, Wolsey  remained  in  London  a  prey  to  the  acutest  an- 
guish. "  This  avocation  to  Rome,"  wrote  he  to  Gregory  Da 
Casale,  "  will  not  only  completely  alienate  the  king  and  his 

*  Jamais  trop  gay,  ne  trop  melancolique, 
Elle  a  au  chef  un  esprit  an^elique, 
Le  plus  subtil  qui  one  au  ciel  vola. 
O  grand'  nierveille  !  on  peut  voir  par  ccla 
Que  je  suis  serf  d'un  monstre  fort  etrange  : 
Monstre  je  dy,  car  pour  tout  vray  elle  a 
Corps  fe'miiiin,  coeur  d'homme  et  tete  d'ango. 


462  THE  CAUSE  AVOKED  TO  ROME. 

realm  from  the  apostolic  see,  but  will  ruin  me  utterly."* 
This  message  had  hardly  reached  the  pope,  before  the  im- 
perial ambassadors  handed  to  him  the  queen's  protest,  and 
added  in  a  very  significant  tone :  "  If  your  holiness  does  not 
call  this  cause  before  you,  the  emperor,  who  is  determined  to 
bring  it  to  an  end,  will  have  recourse  to  other  arguments" 
The  same  perplexity  always  agitated  Clement :  Which  ol 
the  two  must  be  sacrificed,  Henry  or  Charles  ?  Anthony  de 
Leyva,  who  commanded  the  imperial  forces,  having  routed 
the  French  army,  the  pope  no  longer  doubted  that  Charles 
was  the  elect  of  Heaven.  It  was  not  Europe  alone  which 
acknowledged  this  prince's  authority  ;  a  new  world  had  just 
laid  its  power  and  its  gold  at  his  feet.  The  formidable 
priest-king  of  the  Aztecs  had  been  unable  to  withstand 
Cortez ;  could  the  priest-king  of  Rome  withstand  Charles 
V.  ?  Cortez  had  returned  from  Mexico,  bringing  with  him 
Mexican  chiefs  in  all  their  barbarous  splendour,  with  thou- 
sands of  pesos,  with  gold  and  silver  and  emeralds  of  extraor- 
dinary size,  with  magnificent  tissues  and  birds  of  brilliant 
plumage.  He  had  accompanied  Charles,  who  was  then  go- 
ing to  Italy,  to  the  place  of  embarkation,  and  had  sent  to 
Clement  VII.  costly  gifts  of  the  precious  metals,  valuable 
jewels,  and  a  troop  of  Mexican  dancers,  buffoons,  and  jug- 
glers, who  charmed  the  pope  and  the  cardinal  above  all 
things.-}- 

Clement,  even  while  refusing  Henry's  prayer,  had  not  as 
yet  granted  the  emperor's.  He  thought  he  could  now  resist 
no  longer  the  star  of  a  monarch  victorious  over  two  worlds, 
and  hastened  to  enter  into  negotiations  with  him.  Sudden 
torrors  still  assailed  him  from  time  to  time :  My  refusal  (he 
said  to  himself)  may  perhaps  cause  me  to  lose  England. 
But  Charles,  holding  him  in  his  powerful  grasp,  compelled 
him  to  submit.  Henry's  antecedents  were  rather  encouraging 
to  the  pontiff.  How  could  he  imagine  that  a  prince,  who 
alone  of  all  the  monarchs  of  Europe  had  once  contended 

*  Non  solum  regium  animum  et  totum  hoc  regnum  a  sedis  apostolicse 
devotione  penitus  abalienabit,  ac  me  omnino  perdet  et  funditus  destruet. 
State  Papers,  vii.  p.  189 

f  Prescott's  Conquest  of  Mexico,  book  vii.  chap.  iv. 


PEACE  BETWEEN  CLEMENT  AKD  CHARLES.       463 

against  the  great  reformer,  would  now  separate  from  the 
popedom?  On  the  6th  of  July,  Clement  declared  to  the 
English  envoys  that  he  avoked  to  Borne  the  cause  between 
Henry  VIII.  and  Catherine  of  Aragon.  In  other  words, 
this  was  refusing  the  divorce.  "  There  are  twenty-three 
points  in  this  case,"  said  the  courtiers,  "  and  the  debate  on 
the  first  has  lasted  a  year ;  before  the  end  of  the  trial,  the 
king  will  be  not  only  past  marrying  but  past  living."  * 

When  he  learned  that  the  fatal  blow  had  been  struck, 
Bennet,  in  a  tone  of  sadness,  exclaimed :  "  Alas  !  most 
holy  father,  by  this  act  the  Church  in  England  will  be  utterly 
destroyed;  the  king  declared  it  to  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes."f 
— "  Why  is  it  my  fortune  to  live  in  such  evil  days  ? "  re- 
plied the  pope,  who,  in  his  turn,  began  to  weep ;  %  "  but  I 
am  encircled  by  the  emperor's  forces,  and  if  I  were  to  please 
the  king,  I  should  draw  a  fearful  ruin  upon  myself  and  upon 
the  church God  will  be  my  judge." 

On  the  15th  of  July,  Da  Casale  sent  the  fatal  news  to  the 
English  minister.  The  king  was  cited  before  the  pope,  and 
in  case  of  refusal  condemned  in  a  fine  of  10,000  ducats.  On 
the  18th  of  July,  peace  was  proclaimed  at  Rome  between  the 
pontiff  and  the  emperor,  and  on  the  next  day  (these  dates 
are  important)  Clement,  wishing  still  to  make  one  more  at- 
tempt to  ward  off  the  blow  with  which  the  papacy  was 
threatened,  wrote  to  Cardinal  Wolsey  :  "  My  dear  son,  how 
can  I  describe  to  you  my  affliction  ?  Show  in  this  matter 
the  prudence  which  so  distinguishes  you,  and  preserve  the 
king  in  those  kindly  feelings  which  he  has  ever  manifested 
towards  me."  §  A  useless  attempt !  Far  from  saving  the 
oapacy,  Wolsey  was  to  be  wrecked  along  with  it. 

Wolsey  was  thunderstruck.  At  the  very  time  he  was 
assuring  Henry  of  the  attachment  of  Clement  and  Francis, 
both  were  deserting  him.  The  "  politic  handling "  failed, 
which  the  cardinal  had  thought  so  skilful,  and  which  had 
been  so  tortuous.  Henry  now  had  none  but  enemies  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  and  the  Reformation  was  daily  spread- 

*  Fuller,  p.  178.  f  Barnet,  Records,  ii.  p.  xxxvii.  £  Ibid. 

§  Ut  dictum  regcm  in  solita  erga  nos  bencvolentia  retinere  velis.  Ibid. 
p.  xxxviii. 


464  HENRY'S  ANGER. 

ing  over  his  kingdom.  Wolsey's  anguish  cannot  be  described. 
His  power,  his  pomp,  his  palaces  were  all  threatened ;  who 
could  tell  whether  he  would  even  preserve  his  liberty  and  his 
life. — A  just  reward  for  so  much  duplicity. 

But  the  king's  wrath  was  to  be  greater  than  even  the 
minister's  alarm.  His  terrified  servants  wondered  how  they 
should  announce  the  pontiffs  decision.  Gardiner,  who,  after 
his  return  from  Rome,  had  been  named  secretary  of  state, 
went  down  to  Langley  on  the  3d  of  August  to  communicate 
it  to  him.  What  news  for  the  proud  Tudor !  The  decision 
on  the  divorce  was  forbidden  in  England ;  the  cause  avoked 
to  Rome,  there  to  be  buried  and  unjustly  lost ;  Francis  I. 
treating  with  the  emperor ;  Charles  and  Clement  on  the  point 
of  exchanging  at  Bologna  the  most  striking  signs  of  their 
unchangeable  alliance  ;  the  services  rendered  by  the  king  to 
the  popedom  repaid  with  the  blackest  ingratitude ;  his  hope 
of  giving  an  heir  to  the  crown  disgracefully  frustrated  ;  and 
last,  but  not  least,  Henry  VIII.,  the  proudest  monarch  01 
Christendom,  summoned  to  Rome  to  appear  before  an  eccle- 
siastical tribunal it  was  too  much  for  Henry.  His 

wrath,  a  moment  restrained,  burst  forth  like  a  clap  of  thun- 
der,* and  all  trembled  around  him.  "  Do  they  presume," 
he  exclaimed,  "  to  try  my  cause  elsewhere  than  in  my  own 
dominions  ?  I,  the  king  of  England,  summoned  before  an 

Italian  tribunal ! Yes, I  will  goto  Rome,  but  it  shall 

be  with  such  a  mighty  army  that  the  pope,  and  his  priests, 
and  all  Italy  shall  be  struck  with  terror.-J- — I  forbid  the  let- 
ters of  citation  to  be  executed,"  he  continued  ;  "  I  forbid  the 
commission  to  consider  its  functions  at  an  end."  Henry  would 
have  desired  to  tear  off  Campeggio's  purple  robes,  and  throw 
this  prince  of  the  Roman  church  into  prison,  in  order  to 
frighten  Clement ;  but  the  very  magnitude  of  the  insult  com- 
pelled him  to  restrain  himself.  He  feared  above' all  things 
to  appear  humbled  in  the  eyes  of  England,  and  he  hoped,  by 
showing  moderation,  to  hide  the  affront  he  had  received. 

*  He  became  much  incensed.  Herbert,  p.  287.  Supra  quam  dici  po- 
test  excanduit.  Sanders,  p.  50. 

•f  He  would  do  the  same  with  such  a  mayn  [great]  and  army  royal,  as 
should  be  formidable  to  the  pope  and  all  Italy.  State  Papers,  vii.  p.  194. 
Burnet,  Records,  p.  xxxvii. 


HE  CONCEALS  HIS  AFFRONT.  465 

"  Let  everything  be  done,"  he  told  Gardiner,  "  to  conceal 
from  my  subjects  these  letters  of  citation,  which  are  sa  hurt- 
ful to  my  glory.  Write  to  Wolsey  that  I  have  the  greatest 
confidence  in  his  dexterity,  and  that  he  ought,  by  good  hand- 
ling, to  win  over  Campeggio  *  and  the  queen's  counsellors  ; 
and,  above  all,  prevail  upon  them  at  any  price  not  to  serve 
these  citatory  letters  on  me."  But  Henry  had  hardly  given 
his  instructions  when  the  insult  of  which  he  had  been  the 
object  recurred  to  his  imagination  ;  the  thought  of  Clement 
haunted  him  night  and  day,  and  he  swore  to  exact  a  strik- 
ing vengeance  from  the  pontiff.  Rome  desires  to  have  no 

more  to  do  with  England England  in  her  turn  will  cast 

off  Rome.  Henry  will  sacrifice  Wolsey,  Clement,  and  the 
church ;  nothing  shall  stop  his  fury.  The  crafty  pontiff  has 
concealed  his  game,  the  king  shall  beat  him  openly ;  and 
from  age  to  age  the  popedom  shall  shed  tears  over  the  im- 
prudent folly  of  a  Medici.  . 
Thus  after  insupportable  delays,  which  had  fatigued  the 
nation,  a  thunderbolt  fell  upon  England.  Court,  clergy,  and 
people,-from  whom  it  was  impossible  to  conceal  these  great 
events,  were  deeply  stirred,  and  the  whole  kingdom  was  in 
commotion.  Wolsey,  still  hoping  to  ward  off  the  ruin  im- 
pending over  both  himself  and  the  papacy,  immediately  put 
in  play  all  that  dexterity  which  Henry  had  spoken  of;  he  so 
far  prevailed  that  the  letters  citatorial  were  not  served  on  the 
king,  but  only  the  brief  addressed  to  Wolsey  by  Clement 
VII.-J-  The  cardinal,  all  radiant  with  this  trivial  success,  and 
desirous  of  profiting  by  it  to  raise  his  credit,  resolved  to  ac- 
company Campeggio,  who  was  going  down  to  Grafton  to 
take  leave  of  the  king.  When  the  coming  of  the  two  legates 
was  heard  of  at  court,  the  agitation  was  very  great.  The 
dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  regarded  this  proceeding  as  the 
last  effort  of  their  enemy,  and  entreated  Henry  not  to  receive 
him.  "  The  king  will  receive  him,"  said  some.  "  The  king 
will  not  receive  him,"  answered  others.  At  length,  one  Sun- 
day morning,  it  was  announced  that  the  prelates  were  at  the 

•  Your  grace's  dexterity by  good  handling  of  the  Cardinal  Cam- 

peggio.    State  Papers,  vol.  i.  p.  336. 
t  Ibid.  p.  343. 

U2 


466  WOLSEY'S  DISFAVOUU. 

gates  of  the  mansion.  Wolsey  looked  round  with  an  anxious 
eye  for  the  great  officers  who  were  accustomed  to  introduce 
him.  They  appeared,  and  desired  Campeggio  to  follow  them. 
When  the  legate  had  been  taken  to  his  apartments,  Wolsey 
waited  his  turn ;  but  great  was  his  consternation  on  being 
informed  that  there  was  no  chamber  appointed  for  him  in  the 
palace.  Sir  Henry  Norris,  groom  of  the  stole,  offered  Wolsey 
the  use  of  his  own  room,  and  the  cardinal  followed  him,  al- 
most sinking  beneath  the  humiliation  he  had  undergone.* 
He  made  ready  to  appear  before  the  king,  and  summoning 
up  his  courage,  proceeded  to  the  presence-chamber. 

The  lords  of  the  council  were  standing  in  a  row  according 
to  their  rank ;  Wolsey,  taking  off  his  hat,  passed  along, 
saluting  each  of  them  with  affected  civility.  A  great  num- 
ber of  courtiers  arrived,  impatient  to  see  how  Henry  would 
receive  his  old  favourite  ;  and  most  of  them  were  already  ex- 
ulting in  the  striking  disgrace  of  which  they  hoped  to  be 
witnesses.  At  last  the  king  was  announced. 

Henry  stood  under  the  cloth  of  state ;  and  Wolsey  ad- 
vanced and  knelt  before  him.  Deep  silence  prevailed  through- 
out the  chamber To  the  surprise  of  all,  Henry  stooped 

down  and  raised  him  up  with  both  hands Then,  with  a 

pleasing  smile,  he  took  Wolsey  to  the  window,  desired  him 
to  put  on  his  hat,  and  talked  familiarly  with  him.  "  Then," 
says  Cavendish,  the  cardinal's  gentleman  usher,  "  it  would 
have  made  you  smile  to  behold  the  countenances  of  those  who 
had  laid  wagers  that  the  king  would  not  speak  with  him." 

But  this  was  the  last  ray  of  evening  which  then  lighted 
up  the  darkening  fortunes  of  Wolsey  :  the  star  of  his  favour 

was  about  to  set  for  ever The  silence  continued,  for  every 

one  desired  to  catch  a  few  words  of  the  conversation.  The 
king  seemed  to  be  accusing  Wolsey,  and  Wolsey  to  be  jus- 
tifying himself.  On  a  sudden  Henry  pulled  a  letter  out  of 
his  bosom,  and  showing  it  to  the  cardinal,  said  in  a  loud 
voice:  "How  can  that  be?  is  not  this  your  hand?"  It 
was  no  doubt  the  letter  which  Bryan  had  intercepted.  Wol- 
sey replied  in  an  under-tone,  and  seemed  to  have  appeased 
his  master.  The  dinner  hour  having  arrived,  the  king  left 
*  Cavendish,  p.  237-245. 


WOLSEY'S  RECEPTION.  467 

the  room,  telling  Wolsey  that  he  would  not  fail  to  see  him 
again  ;  the  courtiers  were  eager  to  make  their  profoundest 
reverences  to  the  cardinal,  hut  he  haughtily  traversed  tho 
chamber,  and  the  dukes  hastened  to  carry  to  Anne  Boleyn 
the  news  of  this  astonishing  reception. 

Wolsey,  Campeggio,  and  the  lords  of  the  council  sat  down 
to  dinner.  The  cardinal,  well  aware  that  the  terrible  letter 
would  be  his  utter  ruin,  and  that  Henry's  good  graces  had 
no  other  object  than  to  prepare  his  fall,  began  to  hint  at  his 
retirement.  "  Truly,"  said  he  with  a  devout  air,  "  the  king 
would  do  well  to  send  his  bishops  and  chaplains  home  to  their 
cures  and  benefices."  The  company  looked  at  one  another 
with  astonishment.  "  Yea,  marry,"  said  the  duke  of  Nor- 
folk somewhat  rudely,  "  and  so  it  were  meet  for  you  to  do 
also." — "  I  should  be  very  well  contented  therewith,"  an- 
swered Wolsey,  "  if  it  were  the  king's  pleasure  to  license 
me  with  leave  to  go  to  my  cure  at  Winchester." — "  Nay,  to 
your  benefice  at  York,  where  your  greatest  honour  and 
charge  is,"  replied  Norfolk,  who  was  not  willing  that  Wolsey 
should  be  living  so  near  Henry. — "  Even  as  it  shall  please 
the  king,"  added  Wolsey,  and  changed  the  subject  of  con- 
versation. 

Henry  had  caused  himself  to  be  announced  to  Anne  Bo- 
leyn, who  (says  Cavendish)  "kept  state  at  Grafton  more 
like  a  queen  than  a  simple  maid."  Possessing  extreme  sen- 
sibility, and  an  ardent  imagination,  Anne,  who  felt  the 
slightest  insult  with  all  the  sensibility  of  her  woman's  heart, 
was  very  dissatisfied  with  the  king  after  the  report  of  the 
dukes.  Accordingly,  heedless  of  the  presence  of  the  attend- 
ants, she  said  to  him :  "  Sir,  is  it  not  a  marvellous  thing  to 
see  into  what  great  danger  the  cardinal  hath  brought  you 
with  all  your  subjects?" — "How  so,  sweetheart?"  asked 
Henry.  Anne  continued:  "Are  you  ignorant  of  the  ha- 
tred his  exactions  have  drawn  upon  you  ?  There  is  not  a 
man  in  your  whole  realm  of  England  worth  one  hundred 
pounds,  but  he  hath  made  you  his  debtor."  Anne  here 
alluded  to  the  loan  the  king  had  raised  among  his  subjects. 
"  Well,  well,"  said  Henry,  who  was  not  pleased  with  these 
remarks,  "  I  know  that  matter  better  than  you." — "  If  my 


468  WOLSEY'S  LAST  INTERVIEW. 

lord  of  Norfolk,  my  lord  of  Suffolk,  my  uncle,  or  my  father 
had  done  much  less  than  the  cardinal  hath  done,"  continued 
Anne,  "  they  would  have  lost  their  heads  ere  this." — "  Then 
I  perceive,"  said  Henry,  "you  are  none  of  his  friends." — 
"  No,  sir,  I  have  no  cause,  nor  any  that  love  you,"  she  re- 
plied. The  dinner  was  ended ;  the  king,  without  appearing 
at  all  touched,  proceeded  to  the  presence-chamber,  where 
Wolsey  expected  him. 

After  a  long  conversation,  carried  on  in  a  low  tone,  the 
king  took  Wolsey  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  his  private 
chamber.  The  courtiers  awaited  impatiently  the  termina- 
tion of  an  interview  which  might  decide  the  fate  of  England ; 
they  walked  up  and  down  the  gallery,  often  passing  before 
the  door  of  the  closet,  in  the  hope  of  catching  from  Wolsey's 
looks,  when  he  opened  it,  the  result  of  this  secret  confer- 
ence ;  but  one  quarter  of  an  hour  followed  another,  these 
became  hours,  and  still  the  cardinal  did  not  appear.  Henry 
having  resolved  that  this  conversation  should  be  the  last, 
was  no  doubt  collecting  from  his  minister  all  the  informa- 
tion necessary  to  him.  But  the  courtiers  imagined  he  was 
returning  into  his  master's  favour ;  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  Wilt- 
shire, and  the  other  enemies  of  the  prime  minister,  began  to 
grow  alarmed,  and  hastened  off  to  Anne  Boleyn,  who  was 
their  last  hope. 

It  was  night  when  the  king  and  Wolsey  quitted  the  royal 
closet ;  the  former  appeared  gracious,  the  latter  satisfied ;  it 
was  always  Henry's  custom  to  smile  on  those  he  intended 
to  sacrifice.  "  I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning,"  he  said  to 
the  cardinal  with  a  friendly  air.  Wolsey  made  a  low  bow, 
and,  turning  round  to  the  courtiers,  saw  the  king's  smile 
reflected  on  their  faces.  Wiltshire,  Tuke,  and  even  Suffolk, 
were  full  of  civility.  "  Well,"  thought  he,  "  the  motion  of 
such  weathercocks  as  these  shows  me  from  what  quarter  the 
wind  of  favour  is  blowing."* 

But  a  moment  after  the  wind  began  to  change.     Men 

with  torches  waited  for  the  cardinal  at  the  gates  of  the  palace 

to  conduct  him  to  the  place  where  he  would  have  to  pass 

the  night.    Thus  he  was  not  to  sleep  beneath  the  samo 

*  Burnet's  Ref.  vol.  i.  p.  59. 


•  THE  SDPPER  AT  EUSTON.  469 

roof  with  Henry.  He  was  to  lie  at  Euston,  one  of  Empson's 
houses,  about  three  miles  off.  Wolsey,  repressing  his  vex- 
ation, mounted  his  horse,  the  footmen  preceded  him  with 
their  links,  and  after  an  hour's  riding  along  very  bad  roads 
he  reached  the  lodging  assigned  him. 

He  had  sat  down  to  supper,  to  which  some  of  his  most  in- 
timate friends  had  been  invited,  when  suddenly  Gardiner 
was  announced.  Gardiner  owed  everything  to  the  cardinal, 
and  yet  he  had  not  appeared  before  him  since  his  return 
from  Rome.  He  comes  no  doubt  to  play  the  hypocrite  and 
the  spy,  thought  Wolsey.  But  as  soon  as  the  secretary  en- 
tered, Wolsey  rose,  made  him  a  graceful  compliment,  and 
prayed  him  to  take  a  seat.  "  Master  Secretary,"  he  asked, 
"  where  have  you  been  since  your  return  from  Rome  ?" — "  I 
have  been  following  the  court  from  place  to  place." — "  You 
have  been  hunting  then  ?  Have  you  any  dogs  ?"  asked  the 
prime  minister,  who  knew  very  well  what  Gardiner  had 
been  doing  in  the  king's  closet.  "  A  few,"  replied  Gardiner. 
Wolsey  thought  that  even  the  secretary  was  a  bloodhound 
on  his  track.  And  yet  after  supper  he  took  Gardiner  aside, 
and  conversed  with  him  until  midnight.  He  thought  it  pru- 
dent to  neglect  nothing  that  might  clear  up  his  position ; 
and  Wolsey  sounded  Gardiner,  just  as  he  himself  had  been 
sounded  by  Henry  not  long  before. 

The  same  night  at  Grafton  the  king  gave  Campeggio  a 
farewell  audience,  and  treated  him  very  kindly,  "  by  giving 
him  presents  and  other  matters,"  says  Du  Bellay.  Henry 
then  returned  to  Anne  Boleyn.  The  dukes  had  pointed  out 
to  her  the  importance  of  the  present  moment;  she  therefore 
asked  and  obtained  of  Henry,  without  any  great  difficulty, 
his  promise  never  to  speak  to  his  minister  again.*  The  in- 
sults of  the  papacy  had  exasperated  the  king  of  England, 
and  as  he  could  not  punish  Clement,  he  took  his  revenge  on 
the  cardinal. 

The  next  morning,  Wolsey,  impatient  to  have  the  inter- 
view which  Henry  had  promised,  rode  back  early  to  Grafton. 
But  as  he  came  near,  he  met  a  numerous  train  of  servants 

*  Du  Bellay  to  the  Grand  Master.  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  375  ;  also 
Cavendish. 


470  CAMPEGGIO  SEARCHED  AT  DOVEK.* 

and  sumpter-horses  ;  and  presently  afterwards  Henry,  with 
Anne  Boleyn  and  many  lords  and  ladies  of  the  court,  came 
riding  up.  "  What  does  all  this  mean  ?  "  thought  the  cardi- 
nal in  dismay.  "  My  lord,"  said  the  king,  as  he  drew  near, 
"  I  cannot  stay  with  you  now.  You  will  return  to  London 
with  cardinal  Campeggio."  Then  striking  the  spurs  into  his 
horse,  Henry  galloped  off  with  a  friendly  salutation.  After 
him  came  Anne  Boleyn,  who  rode  past  Wolsey  with  head 
erect,  and  casting  on  him  a  proud  look.  The  court  proceeded 
to  Hartwell  Park,  where  Anne  had  determined  to  keep  the 
king  all  day.  Wolsey  was  confounded.  There  was  no  room 
for  doubt;  his  disgrace  was  certain.  His  head  swam,  he 
remained  immovable  for  an  instant,  and  then  recovered  him- 
self; but  the  blow  he  had  received  had  not  been  unobserved 
by  the  courtiers,  and  the  cardinal's  fall  became  the  general 
topic  of  conversation. 

After  dinner,  the  legates  departed,  and  on  the  second  day 
reached  Moor  Park,  a  mansion  built  by  Archbishop  Neville, 
one  of  Wolsey's  predecessors,  who  for  high  treason  had  been 
first  imprisoned  at  Calais,  and  afterwards  at  Ham.  These 
recollections  were  by  no  means  agreeable  to  Wolsey.  The 
next  morning  the  two  cardinals  separated ;  Campeggio  pro- 
ceeded to  Dover,  and  Wolsey  to  London. 

Campeggio  was  impatient  to  get  out  of  England,  and  great 
was  his  annoyance,  on  reaching  Dover,  to  find  that  the  wind 
was  contrary.  But  a  still  greater  vexation  was  in  reserve. 
He  had  hardly  lain  down  to  rest  himself,  before  his  door  was 
opened,  and  a  band  of  sergeants  entered  the  room.  The 
cardinal,  who  knew  what  scenes  of  this  kind  meant  in  Italy, 
thought  he  was  a  dead  man,*  and  fell  trembling  at  his  chap- 
lain's feet  begging  for  absolution.  Meantime  the  officers 
opened  his  luggage,  broke  into  his  chests,  scattered  his 
property  about  the  floor,  and  even  shook  out  his  clothes.-j- 

Henry's  tranquillity  had  not  been  of  long  duration. 
"  Campeggio  is  the  bearer  of  letters  from  Wolsey  to  Rome," 
whispered  some  of  the  courtiers ;  "  who  knows  but  they  con- 
tain treasonable  matter  ?  "  "  There  is,  too,  among  his  papers 

*  Lc  Grand,  TO!,  ii.  p.  156.    Life  of  Campeggio,  by  Sigonius. 
t  Sarcinas  excuti  jussit.    Sanders,  p.  51. 


CHARGES  AGAINST  CAMPEGGIO.  471 

the  famous  decretal  pronouncing  the  divorce,"  said  one ;  "  if 
we  had  but  that  document  it  would  finish  the  business." 
Another  affirmed  that  Campeggio  "  had  large  treasure  with 
him  of  my  lord's  (Wolsey's)  to  be  conveyed  in  great  tuns  to 
Rome,"*  whither  it  was  surmised  the  cardinal  of  York  would 
escape  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  treason.  "  It  is  certain," 
added  a  third,  "  that  Campeggio,  assisted  by  Wolsey,  has 
been  able  to  procure  your  majesty's  correspondence  with 
Anne  Boleyn,  and  is  carrying  it  away  with  him."  Henry, 
therefore,  sent  a  messenger  after  the  nuncio,  with  orders 
that  his  baggage  should  be  thoroughly  searched. 

Nothing  was  found,  neither  letters,  nor  bull,  nor  treasures. 
The  bull  had  been  destroyed ;  the  treasures  Wolsey  had  never 
thought  of  intrusting  to  his  colleague ;  and  the  letters  of 
Anne  and  Henry,  Campeggio  had  sent  on  before  by  his  son 
Rodolph,  and  the  pope  was  stretching  out  his  hands  to  re- 
ceive them,  proud,  like  his  successors,  of  the  robbery  com- 
mitted by  two  of  his  legates. 

Campeggio  being  reassured,  and  seeing  that  he  was  neither 
to  be  killed  nor  robbed,  made  a  great  noise  at  this  act  of 
violence,  and  at  the  insulting  remarks  which  had  given  rise 
to  it.  "  I  will  not  leave  England,"  he  caused  Henry  to  be 
informed,  "  until  I  have  received  satisfaction."  "  My  lord 
forgets  that  he  is  legate  no  longer,"  replied  the  king,  "  since 
the  pope  has  withdrawn  his  powers ;  he  forgets,  besides,  that, 
as  bishop  of  Salisbury,  he  is  my  subject ;  as  for  the  remarks 
against  him  and  the  cardinal  of  York,  it  is  a  liberty  the 
people  of  England  are  accustomed  to  take,  and  which  I  can- 
not put  down."  Campeggio,  anxious  to  reach  France,  was 
satisfied  with  these  reasons,  and  soon  forgot  all  his  sorrows 
at  the  sumptuous  table  of  Cardinal  Duprat. 

Wolsey  Avas  not  so  fortunate.  He  had  seen  Campeggio 
go  away,  and  remained  like  a  wrecked  seaman  thrown  on  a 
desert  isle,  who  has  seen  depart  the  only  friends  capable  of 
giving  him  any  help.  His  necromancy  had  forewarned  him 
that  this  would  be  a  fatal  year.f  The  angel  of  the  maid  of 

*  Cavendish,  p.  246.    See  also  Le  Grand,  ii.  p.  258. 
t  He  had  learnt  of  his  necromancy  that  this  would  be  a  feopardous 
year  for  him.    Tyndale's  Works,  i.  p.  480. 


472  HOME  IN  DANGER. 

Kent  had  said :  "  Go  to  the  cardinal  and  announce  his  fall} 
because  he  has  not  done  what  you  had  commanded  him  to 
do."*  Other -voices  besides  hers  made  themselves  heard: 
the  hatred  of  the  nation,  the  contempt  of  Europe,  and,  above 
all,  Henry's  anger,  told  him  that  his  hour  was  come.  It  was 
true  the  pope  said  that  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  save 
him ;  -j-  but  Clement's  good  offices  would  only  accelerate  his 
ruin.  Du  Bellay,  whom  the  people  believed  to  be  the  car- 
dinal's accomplice,  bore  witness  to  the  change  that  had  taken 
place  in  men's  minds.  While  passing  on  foot  through  the 
streets  of  the  capital,  followed  by  two  valets,  "  his  ears  were 
so  filled  with  coarse  jests  as  he  went  along,"  he  said,  "  that 
he  knew  not  which  way  to  turn."  J  "  The  cardinal  is  utterly 
undone,"  he  wrote,  "  and  I  see  not  how  he  can  escape." 
The  idea  occurred  to  Wolsey,  from  time  to  time,  to  pronounce 
the  divorce  himself;  but  it  was  too  late.  He  was  even 
told  that  his  life  was  in  danger.  Fortune,  blind  and  bald, 
her  foot  on  the  wheel,  fled  rapidly  from  him,  nor  was  it  in 
his  power  to  stop  her.  And  this  was  not  all :  after  him  (he 
thought)  there  was  no  one  who  could  uphold  the  church  of 
the  pontiffs  in  England.  Tfce  ship  of  Rome  was  sailing  on 
a  stormy  sea  among  rocks  and  shoals ;  Wolsey  at  the  helm 
looked  in  vain  for  a  "port  of  refuge ;  the  vessel  leaked  on 
every  side ;  it  was  rapidly  sinking,  and  the  cardinal  uttered 
a  cry  of  distress.  Alas !  he  had  desired  to  save  Rome,  but 
Rome  would  not  have  it  so. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Meeting  at  Waltham — Youth  of  Thomas  Cranmer — His  early  Educa- 
tion—Studies  Scripture  for  three  Years — His  Functions  as  Examiner 
— the  Supper  at  Waltham — New  View  of  the  Divorce — Fox  communi- 
cates it  to  Henry — Cranmer's  Vexation — Conference  with  the  King — 
Cranmer  at  the  Boleyns. 

As  Wolsey's  star  was   disappearing  in   the  West  in  the 
midst  of  stormy  clouds,  another  was  rising  in  the  East,  tc 

*  Strype,  i.  p.  373.  f  Herbert,  p.  289. 

J  Du  Bellay  to  Mortmorency,  12th  October.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,p.  365. 


THOMAS  CRANMER.  473 

point  out  the  way  to  save  Britain.  Men,  like  stars,  appeal 
on  the  horizon  at  the  command  of  God. 

On  his  return  from  Woodstock  to  Greenwich,  Henry 
stopped  full  of  anxiety  at  Waltham  in  Essex.  His  atten- 
dants were  lodged  in  the  houses  of  the  neighbourhood. 
Fox,  the  almoner,  and  Secretary  Gardiner,  were  quartered 
on  a  gentleman  named  Cressy,  at  Waltham  Abbey.  When 
supper  was  announced,  Gardiner  and  Fox  were  surprised  to 
see  an  old  friend  enter  the  room.  It  was  Thomas  Cran- 
mer,  a  Cambridge  doctor.  "What!  is  it  you?"  they  said, 
"  and  how  came  you  here?"  "  Our  host's  wife  is  my  rela- 
tion," replied  Cranmer,  "  and  as  the  epidemic  is  raging  at 
Cambridge,  I  brought  home  my  friend's  sons,  who  are  under 
my  care."  As  this  new  personage  is  destined  to  play  an 
important  part  in  the  history  of  the  Reformation,  it  may  be 
worth  our  while  to  interrupt  our  narrative,  and  give  a  par- 
ticular account  of  him. 

Cranmer  was  descended  from  an  ancient  family,  which 
came  into  England,  as  is  generally  believed,  with  the  Con- 
queror. He  was  born  at  Aslacton  in  Nottinghamshire  on 
the  2d  July  1489,  six  years  after.Luther.  His  early  educa- 
tion had  been  very  much  neglected ;  his  tutor,  an  ignorant 
and  severe  priest,  had  taught  him  little  else  than  patiently  to 
endure  severe  chastisement — a  knowledge  destined  to  be 
very  useful  to  him  in  after-life.  His  father  was  an  honest 
country  gentleman,  who  cared  for  little  besides  hunting,  rac- 
ing, and  military  sports.  At  this  school,  the  son  learned  to 
ride,  to  handle  the  bow  and  the  sword,  to  fish,  and  to  hawk ; 
and  he  never  entirely  neglected  these  exercises,  which  he 
thought  essential  to  his  health.  Thomas  Cranmer  was  fond 
of  walking,  of  the  charms  of  nature,  and  of  solitary  medita- 
tions ;  and  a  hill,  near  his  father's  mansion,  used  often  to  be 
shown  where  he  was  wont  to  sit,  gazing  on  the  fertile  coun- 
try at  his  feet,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  distant  spires,  listening 
with  melancholy  pleasure  to  the  chime  of  the  bells,  and  in- 
dulging in  sweet  contemplations.  About  1504,  he  was  sent 
to  Cambridge,  where  "  barbarism  still  prevailed,"  says  an 
historian.*  His^Iain,  noble,  and  modest  air  conciliated  the 

*  Faoda  barbaries.    Melch.  Adam.  Vitze  TheoL  L 
VOL.  V.  21 


474  CRANMER'S  FIRST  MARRIAGE. 

affections  of  many,  and,  in  1510,  he  was  elected  fellow  of 
Jesus  College.  Possessing  a  tender  heart,  he  became  at- 
tached, at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  to  a  young  person  of 
good  birth,  (says  Foxe,)  or  of  inferior  rank,  as  other  writers 
assert.  Cranmer  was  unwilling  to  imitate  the  disorderly 
lives  of  his  fellow-students,  and  although  marriage  would 
necessarily  close  the  career  of  honours,  he  married  the  young 
lady,  resigned  his  fellowship  (in  conformity  with  the  regula- 
tions), and  took  a  modest  lodging  at  the  Dolphin.  He  then 
began  to  study  earnestly  the  most  remarkable  writings  of 
the  times,  polishing,  it  has  been  said,  his  old  asperity  on  the 
productions  of  Erasmus,  of  Lefevre  of  Etaples,  and  other 
great  authors ;  every  day  his  crude  understanding  received 
new  brilliancy.*  He  then  began  to  teach  in  Buckingham 
(afterwards  Magdalene)  College,  and  thus  provided  for  his 
wants. 

His  lessons  excited  the  admiration  of  enlightened  men, 
and  the  anger  of  obscure  ones,  who  disdainfully  called  him 
(because  of  the  inn  at  which  he  lodged)  the  hostler.  "  This 
name  became  him  well,"  said  Fuller,  "  for  in  his  lessons  he 
roughly  rubbed  the  backs  of  the  friars,  and  famously  curried 
the  hides  of  the  lazy  priests."  His  wife  dying  a  year  after 
his  marriage,  Cranmer  was  re-elected  fellow  of  his  old  col- 
lege, and  the  first  writing  of  Luther's  having  appeared,  he 
said :  "  I  must  know  on  which  side  the  truth  lies.  There 
is  only  one  infallible  source,  the  Scriptures ;  in  them  I  will 
seek  for  God's  truth."  f  And  for  three  years  he  constantly 
studied  the  holy  books,  J  without  commentary,  without  hu- 
man theology,  and  hence  he  gained  the  name  of  the  Scrip- 
turist.  At  last  his  eyes  were  opened  ;  he  saw  the  mysteri- 
ous bond  which  unites  all  biblical  revelations,  and  under- 
stood the  completeness  of  God's  design.  Then  without  for- 
saking the  Scriptures,  he  studied  all  kinds  of  authors.§  He 

*  Ad  eos  non  aliter  quam  ad  cotem,  quotidie  priscam  detergebat 
scabritiem.  Melch.  Adam.  Vitse  Theol.  i. 

•f  Behold  the  very  fountains.    Foxe,  viii.  p.  4. 

J  Totum  triennium  Sacra  Scripturse  monumentis  perlegendis  impendit. 
M.  Adam.  p.  1.  * 

§  Like  a  merchant  greedy  of  all  good  things.    Foxe,  riii,  p.  4. 


CRANMER  ON  THE  DIVORCE.  475 

was  a  slow  reader,  but  a  close  observer;*  he  never  opened 
a  book  without  having  a  pen  in  his  hand.  7  He  did  not 
take  up  with  any  particular  party  or  age  ;  but  possessing  a 
free  and  philosophic  mind,  he  weighed  all  opinions  in  the 
balance  of  his  judgment,  {  taking  the  Bible  for  his  standard. 

Honours  soon  came  upon  him ;  he  was  made  successively 
doctor  of  divinity,  professor,  university  preacher,  and  ex- 
aminer. He  used  to  say  to  the  candidates  for  the  ministry : 
*'  Christ  sendeth  his  hearers  to  the  Scriptures,  and  not  to  the 
church." § — "But,"  replied  the  monks,  "they  are  so  diffi- 
cult."— "  Explain  the  obscure  passages  by  those  which  are 
clear,"  rejoined  the  professor,  "  Scripture  by  Scripture.  Seek, 
pray,  and  he  who  has  the  key  of  David  will  open  them  to 
you."  The  monks,  affrighted  at  this  task,  withdrew  burst- 
ing with  anger ;  and  erelong  Cranmer's  name  was  a  name 
of  dread  in  every  convent.  Some,  however,  submitted  to 
the  labour,  and  one  of  them,  Doctor  Barrett,  blessed  God 
that  the  examiner  had  turned  him  back ;  "  for,"  said  he,  "  I 
found  the  knowledge  of  God  in  the  holy  book  he  compelled 
me  to  study."  Cranmer  toiled  at  the  same  work  as  Latimer, 
Stafford,  and  Bilney. 

Fox  and  Gardiner  having  renewed  acquaintance  with 
their  old  friend  at  Waltham  Abbey,  they  sat  down  to  table, 
and  both  the  almoner  and  the  secretary  asked  the  doctor 
what  he  thought  of  the  divorce.  It  was  the  usual  topic  of 
conversation,  and  not  long  before,  Cranmer  had  been  named 
member  of  a  commission  appointed  to  give  their  opinion  on 
this  affair.  "  You  are  not  in  the  right  path,"  said  Cranmer 
to  his  friends ;  "  you  should  not  cling  to  the  decisions  of  the 
church.  There  is  a  surer  and  a  shorter  way  which  alone 
can  give  peace  to  the  king's  conscience." — "  What  is  that  ?  " 
they  both  asked. — "  The  true  question  is  this,"  replied  Cran- 
mer :  "  What  says  the  word  of  God  ?  If  God  has  declared  a 
marriage  of  this  nature  lad,  the  pope  cannot  make  it  good. 
Discontinue  these  interminable  Roman  negotiations.  When 

•  Tardus  quidem  lector  sed  vehemens  observator.    M.  Adam.  p.  1. 
f  Sine  calamo  nunquam  ad  scriptoris  cujusquam  librum  accessit.    Ibid. 
J  Omnes  omnium  opmiones  tacito  secum  judicio  trutinabat.    Ibid. 
|  Cranmer's  Works,  p.  17, 18. 


476  CBANMER  MADE  KNOWN  TO  THE  KING. 

God  has  spcken,  man  must  obey." — "But  how  shall  we 
know  what  God  has  said?" — "Consult  the  universities; 
they  will  discern  it  more  surely  than  Rome." 

This  was  a  new  view.  The  idea  of  consulting  the  uni- 
versities had  been  acted  upon  before ;  but  then  their  own 
opinions  only  had  been  demanded ;  now,  the  question  was 
3imply  to  know  what  God  says  in  his  word.  "  The  word  'of 
God  is  above  the  church,"  was  the  principle  laid  down  by 
Cranmer,  and  in  that  principle  consisted  the  whole  of  the 
Reformation.  The  conversation  at  the  supper-table  of 
Waltham  was  destined  to  be  one  of  those  secret  springs 
which  an  invisible  Hand  sets  in  motion  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  great  designs.  The  Cambridge  doctor,  suddenly 
transported  from  his  study  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  was  on 
the  point  of  becoming  one  of  the  principal  instruments  of 
Divine  wisdom. 

The  day  after  this  conversation,  Fox  and  Gardiner  ar- 
rived at  Greenwich,  and  the  king  summoned  them  into  his 
presence  the  same  evening.  "  Well,  gentlemen,"  he  said  to 
them,  "  our  holidays  are  over ;  what  shall  we  do  now  ?  If 
we  still  have  recourse  to  Rome,  God  knows  when  we  shall 
see  the  end  of  this  matter."* — "  It  will  not  be  necessary  to 
take  so  long  a  journey,"  said  Fox ;  "  we  know  a  shorter 
and  surer  way." — "What  is  it?"  asked  the  king  eagerly. — 
"  Doctor  Cranmer,  whom  we  met  yesterday  at  Waltham, 
thinks  that  the  Bible  should  be  the  sole  judge  in  your 
cause."  Gardiner,  vexed  at  his  colleague's  frankness,  de- 
sired to  claim  all  the  honour  of  this  luminous  idea  for  him- 
self; but  Henry  did  not  listen  to  him.  "  Where,  is  Doctor 
Cranmer?"  said  he,  much  affected.-}-  "  Send,  and  fetch  him 
immediately.  Mother  of  God!  (this  was  his  customary 
oath)  this  man  has  the  right  sow  by  the  ear.:}:  If  this  had 
only  been  suggested  to  me  two  years  ago,  what  expense  and 
trouble  I  should  have  been  spared ! " 

Cranmer  had  gone  into  Nottinghamshire;  a  messenger 
followed  and  brought  him  back.  "  Why  have  you  en- 
tangled me  in  this  affair?"  he  said  to  Fox  and  Gardiner, 

*  God  knoAvs,  and  not  I.    Foxe,  viii.  7. 

t  Burnet,  vol.  i.  r>  60.  J  Ibid. 


CRANMER'S  CHARACTER.  477 

u  Pray  make  my  excuses  to  the  king."  Gardiner,  who 
wished  for  nothing  better,  promised  to  do  all  he  could ;  but 
it  was  of  no  use.  "  I  will  have  no  excuses,"  said  Henry. 
The  wily  courtier  was  obliged  to  make  up  his  mind  to  in- 
troduce the  ingenuous  and  upright  man,  to  whom  that  sta- 
tion, which  he  himself  had  so  coveted,  was  one  day  to 
belong.  Cranmer  and  Gardiner  went  down  to  Greenwich, 
both  alike  dissatisfied. 

Cranmer  was  then  forty  years  of  age,  with  pleasing  fea- 
tures, and  mild  and  winning  eyes,  in  which  the  candour  of 
his  soul  seemed  to  be  reflected.  Sensible  to  "the  pains  as 
well  as  to  the  pleasures  of  the  heart,  he  was  destined  to  be 
more  exposed  than  other  men  to  anxieties  and  falls;  a 
peaceful  life  in  some  remote  parsonage  would  have  been 
more  to  his  taste  than  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  Blessed 
with  a  generous  mind,  unhappily  he  did  not  possess  the 
firmness  necessary  in  a  public  man ;  a  little  stone  sufficed 
to  make  him  stumble.  His  excellent  understanding  showed 
him  the  better  way ;  but  his  great  timidity  made  him  fear 
the  more  dangerous.  He  was  rather  too  fond  of  relying 
upon  the  power  of  men,  and  made  them  unhappy  conces- 
sions with  too  great  facility.  If  the  king  had  questioned 
him,  he  would  never  have  dared  advise  so  bold  a  course  as 
that  he  had  pointed  out ;  the  advice  had  slipped  from  him 
at  table  during  the  intimacy  of  familiar  conversation.  Yet 
he  was  sincere,  and  after  doing  everything  to  escape  from  the 
consequences  of  his  frankness,  he  was  ready  to  maintain  the 
opinion  he  had  given. 

Henry,  perceiving  Cranmer's  timidity,  graciously  ap- 
proached him.  "  What  is  your  name?"  said  the  king,  en- 
deavouring to  put  him  at  his  ease.  "  Did  you  not  meet 
my  secretary  and  my  almoner  at  Waltham  ?  "  And  then 
he' added:  "Did  you  not  speak  to  them  of  my  great  affair?" 
— repeating  the  words  ascribed  to  Cranmer.  The  latter 
could  not  retreat :  "  Sir,  it  is  true,  I  did  say  so." — "  I  see," 
replied  the  king  with  animation,  "  that  you  have  found  the 
breach  through  which  we  must  storm  the  fortress.  Now, 
sir  doctor,  I  beg  you,  and  as  you  are  my  subject  I  command 
you,  to  lay  aside  every  other  occupation,  and  to  bring  my 


478  CRANMER  MEETS  ANNE  BOLEYN. 

cause  to  a  conclusion  in  conformity  with  the  ideas  you  have 
put  forth.  All  that  I  desire  to  know  is,  whether  my  mar- 
riage is  contrary  to  the  laws  of  God  or  net.  Employ  all 
your  skill  in  investigating  the  subject,  and  thus  bring  comfort 
to  my  conscience  as  well  as  to  the  queen's."* 

Cranmer  was  confounded;  he  recoiled  from  the  idea  of 
deciding  an  affair  on  which  depended,  it  might  be,  the 
destinies  of  the  nation,  and  sighed  after  the  lonely  fields  of 
Aslacton.  But  grasped  by  the  vigorous  hand  of  Henry,  he 
was  compelled  to  advance.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  pray  intrust 
this  matter  to  doctors  more  learned  than  I  am." — "  I  am 
very  willing,"  answered  the  king,  "  but  I  desire  that  you 
will  also  give  me  your  opinion  in  writing."  And  then  sum- 
moning the  earl  of  Wiltshire  to  his  presence,  he  said  to  him: 
"  My  lord,  you  will  receive  Doctor  Cranmer  into  your  house 
at  Durham  Place,  and  let  him  have  all  necessary  quiet  to 
compose  a  report  for  which  I  have  asked  him."  After  this 
precise  command,  which  admitted  of  no  refusal,  Henry 
withdrew. 

In  this  manner  was  Cranmer  introduced  by  the  king  to 
Anne  Boleyn's  father,  and  not,  as  some  Romanist  authors 
have  asserted,  by  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  to  the  king.-J-  Wilt- 
shire conducted  Cranmer  to  Durham  House  (now  the  Adelphi 
in  the  Strand),  and  the  pious  doctor,  on  whom  Henry  had 
imposed  these  quarters,  soon  contracted  a  close  friendship 
with  Anne  and  her  father,  and  took  advantage  of  it  to  teach 
them  the  value  of  the  divine  word,  as  the  pearl  of  great 
price.\  Henry,  while  profiting  by  the  address  of  a  Wolsey 
and  a  Gardiner,  paid  little  regard  to  the  men;  but  he  re- 
spected Cranmer,  even  when  opposed  to  him  in  opinion,  and 
until  his  death  placed  the  learned  doctor  above  all  his  cour- 
tiers and  all  his  clerks.  The  pious  man  often  succeeds 
better,  even  with  the  great  ones  of  this  world,  than  the  am- 
bitious and  the  intriguing. 

*  For  the  discharging  of  both  our  consciencies.    Foxe,  viii.  p.  8. 
f  Sanders,  p.  57  ;  Lingard,  vol.  vi.  chap.  iii.    Compare  Foxe,  vol.  viii. 
p  8. 
J  Teque  nobilis  illius  margaritse  desiderio  teneri.  Erasm.  Epp.  p.  1754. 


WOLSEY  IN  THE  COURT  OF  CHANCERY.  479 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

vVolsey  in  the  Court  of  Chancery — Accused  by  the  Dukes — Refuses  to 
give  up  the  Great  Seal— His  Despair — He  gives  up  the  Seal — Order  to 
depart— His  Inventory — Alarm— The  Scene  of  Departure — Favourable 
Message  from  the  King — Wolsey's  Joy — His  Fool — Arrival  at  Esher. 

WHILE  Cranmer  was  rising  notwithstanding  his  humility, 
Wolsey  was  falling  in  despite  of  his  stratagems.  The  car- 
dinal still  governed  the  kingdom,  gave  instructions  to  am- 
bassadors, negotiated  with  princes,  and  filled  his  sumptuous 
palaces  with  his  haughtiness.  The  king  could  not  make  up 
his  mind  to  turn  him  off;  the  force  of  habit,  the  need  he  had 
of  him,  the  recollection  of  the  services  Henry  had  received 
from  him,  pleaded  in  his  favour.  Wolsey  without  the  seals 
appeared  almost  as  inconceivable  as  the  king  without  his 
crown.  Yet  the  fall  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  favourites 
recorded  in  history  was  inevitably  approaching,  and  we  must 
now  describe  it. 

On  the  9th  of  October,  after  the  Michaelmas  vacation, 
Wolsey,  desirous  of  showing  a  bold  face,  went  and  opened 
the  high  court  of  chancery  with  his  accustomed  pomp;  but 
he  noticed,  with  uneasiness,  that  none  of  the  king's  servants 
walked  before  him,  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  do. 
He  presided  on  the  bench  with  an  inexpressible  depression 
of  spirits,  and  the  various  members  of  the  court  sat  before 
him  with  an  absent  air;  there  was  something  gloomy  and 
solemn  in  this  sitting,  as  if  all  were  taking  part  in  a  funeral ; 
it  was  destined  indeed  to  be  the  last  act  of  the  cardinal's 
power.  Some  days  before  (F  oxe  says  on  the  1st  of  October) 
the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  with  other  lords  of  the 
privy-council,  had  gone  down  to  Windsor,  and  denounced  to 
the  king  Wolsey's  unconstitutional  relations  with  the  pope, 
his  usurpations,  "  his  robberies,  and  the  discords  sown  by 
his  means  between  Christian  princes."*  Such  motives 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency,  22d  October.  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p. 
377. 


480  THE  CARDINAL'S  LAST  SITTING. 

would  not  have  sufficed;  but  Henry  had  stronger.  Wolsey 
had  not  kept  any  of  his  promises  in  the  matter  of  the 
divorce;  it  would  even  appear  that  he  had  advised  the  pope 
to  excommunicate  the  king,  and  thus  raise  his  people  against 
him.*  This  enormity  was  not  at  that  time  known  hy  the 
prince;  it  is  even  probable  that  it  did  not  take  place  until 
later.  But  Henry  knew  enough,  and  he  gave  his  attorney- 
general,  Sir  Christopher  Hales,  orders  to  prosecute  Wolsey. 

Whilst  the  heart-broken  cardinal  was  displaying  his 
authority  for  the  last  time  in  the  court  of  chancery,  the 
attorney-general  was  accusing  him  in  the  king's  bench  for 
having  obtained  papal  bulls  conferring  on  him  a  jurisdiction 
which  encroached  on  the  royal  power ;  and  calling  for  the 
application  of  the  penalties  of  prcemunire.  The  two  dukes 
received  orders  to  demand  the  seals  from  Wolsey ;  and  the 
latter,  informed  of  what  had  taken  place,  did  not  .quit  his 
palace  oh  the  10th,  expecting  every  moment  the  arrival  of 
the  messengers  of  the  king's  anger ;  but  no  one  appeared. 

The  next  day  the  two  dukes  arrived :  "  It  is  the  king's 
good  pleasure,"  said  they  to  the  cardinal,  who  remained 
seated  in  his  arm-chair,  "  that  you  give  up  the  broad  seal 
to  us  and  retire  to  Esher"  (a  country-seat  near  Hampton 
Court).  Wolsey,  whose  presence  of  mind  never  failed  him, 
demanded  to  see  the  commission  under  which  they  were 
acting.  "  We  have  our  orders  from  his  majesty's  mouth," 
said  they. — "  That  may  be  sufficient  for  you,"  replied  the 
cardinal,  "  but  not  for  me.  The  great  seal  of  England  was 
delivered  to  me  by  the  hands  of  my  sovereign ;  I  may  not 
deliver  it  at  the  simple  word  of  any  lord,  unless  you  can 
show  me  your  commission."  Suffolk  broke  out  into  a  pas- 
sion, but  Wolsey  remained  calm,  and  the  two  dukes  re- 
turned to  Windsor.  This  was  the  cardinal's  last  triumph. 

The  rumour  of  his  disgrace  created  an  immense  sensation 
at  court,  in  the  city,  and  among  the  foreign  ambassadors. 
Du  Bellay  hastened  to  York  Place  (Whitehall)  to  contem- 
plate this  great  ruin  and  console  his  unhappy  friend.  He 
found  Wolsey,  with  dejected  countenance  and  lustreless 
eyes,  "  shrunk  to  half  his  wonted  size,"  wrote  the  ambas- 
*  Ranke,  Deutsche  Geschichte,  iii.  p.  140. 


HE  GIVES  r:'  THE  GREAT  SEAL.  481 

sador  to  Montmorency,  "the  greatest  example  of  fortune 
nhich  was  ever  beheld."  Wolsey  desired  "  to  set  forth  his 
case"  to  him  ;  but  his  thoughts  were  confused,  his  language 
broken,  "  for  heart  and  tongue  both  failed  him  entirely;"  he 
burst  into  tears.  The  ambassador  regarded  him  with  com- 
passion :  "Alas!"  thought  he,  "his  enemies  cannot  but 
foel  pity  for  him."  At  last  the  unhappy  cardinal  recovered 
his  speech,  but  only  to  give  way  to  despair.  "  I  desire  no 
more  authority,"  he  exclaimed,  "  nor  the  pope's  legation,  nor 
the  broad  seal  of  England I  am  ready  to  give  up  every- 
thing, even  to  my  shirt.* I  can  live  in  a  hermitage, 

provided  the  king  does  not  hold  me  in  disgrace."  The  am- 
bassador "  did  all  he  could  to  comfort  him,"  when  Wolsey, 
catching  at  the  plank  thrown  out  to  him,  exclaimed:  "Would 
that  the  king  of  France  and  madame  might  pray  the  king 
to  moderate  his  anger  against  me.  But,  above  all,"  lie 
added  in  alarm,  "  take  care  the  king  never  knows  that  I 
have  solicited  this  of  you."  Du  Bellay  wrote  indeed  to 
France,  that  the  king  and  madame  alone  could  "  withdraw 
their  affectionate  servant  from  the  gates  of  hell ; "  and  Wolsey 
being  informed  of  these  despatches,  his  hopes  recovered  a 
little.  But  this  bright  gleam  did  not  last  long. 

On  Sunday  the  17th  of  October,  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  re- 
appeared at  Whitehall,  accompanied  by  Fitzwilliam,  Taylor, 
and  Gardiner,  Wolsey's  former  dependant.  It  was  six  in 
the  evening ;  they  found  the  cardinal  in  an  upper  chamber, 
near  the  great  gallery,  and  presented  the  king's  orders  to 
him.  Having  read  them,  he  said :  "  I  am  happy  to  obey 
his  majesty's  commands;"  then,  having  ordered  the  great 
seal  to  be  brought  him,  he  took  it  out  of  the  white  leather 
case  in  which  he  kept  it,  and  handed  it  to  the  dukes,  who 
placed  it  in  a  box,  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  and  orna- 
mented with  the  arms  of  England,-}-  ordered  Gardiner  to  seal 
it  up  with  red  wax,  and  gave  it  to  Taylor  to  convey  to  the 
king. 

Wolsey  was  thunderstruck;  he  was  to  drink  the  bitter 
cup  even  to  the  dregs :  he  was  ordered  to  leave  his  palace 

•  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.     L«  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  371. 
t  In  quadam  theca  de  veluto  crimisino.    Rymer  Act.  p.  138. 

21*  T 


482  WOLSEY'S  LAST  HOPES. 

forthwith,  taking  with  him  neither  clothes,  linen,  nor  plate  ; 
the  dukes  had  feared  that  he  would  convey  away  his  treas- 
ures. Wolsey  comprehended  the  greatness  of  his  misery ; 
he  found  strength  however  to  say:  "  Since  it  is  the  king's 
good  pleasure  to  take  my  house  and  all  it  contains,  I  am 
content  to  retire  to  Esher."  The  dukes  left  him. 

Wolsey  remained  alone.  This  astonishing  man,  who  had 
risen  from  a  butcher's  shop  to  the  summit  of  earthly  great- 
ness— who,  for  a  word  that  displeased  him,  sent  his  master's 
most  faithful  servants  (Pace  for  instance)  to  the  Tower, 
and  who  had  governed  England  as  if  he  had  been  its  mon- 
arch, and  even  more,  for  he  had  governed  without  a  parliar 
ment — was  driven  out,  and  thrown,  as  it  were,  upon  a 
dunghill.  A  sudden  hope  flashed  like  lightning  through 
his  mind ;  perhaps  the  magnificence  of  the  spoils  would 
appease  Henry.  Was  not  Esau  pacified  by  Jacob's  present? 
Wolsey  summoned  his  officers :  "  Set  tables  in  the  great 
gallery,"  he  said  to  them,  "  and  place  on  them  all  I  have 
intrusted  to  your  care,  in  order  to  render  me  an  account." 
These  orders  were  executed  immediately.  The  tables  were 
covered  with  an  immense  quantity  of  rich  stuffs,  silks  and 
velvet?  of  all  colours,  costly  furs,  rich  copes  and  other 
ecclesiastical  vestures ;  the  walls  were  hung  with  cloth  of 
gold  and  silver,  and  webs  of  a  valuable  stuff  named  baudy- 
kin,*  from  the  looms  of  Damascus,  and  with  tapestry, 
representing  scriptural  subjects  or  stories  from  the  old 
romances  of  chivalry.  The  gilt  chamber  and  the  council 
;.hamber,  adjoining  the  gallery,  were  both  filled  with  plate, 
.11  which  the  gold  and  silver  were  set  with  pearls  and  pre- 
cious stones  :  these  articles  of  luxury  were  so  abundant  that 
basketfuls  of  costly  plate,  which  had  fallen  out  of  fashion, 
were  stowed  away  under  the  tables.  On  every  table  was  an 
exact  list  of  the  treasures  with  which  it  was  loaded,  for  the 
most  perfect  order  and  regularity  prevailed  in  the  cardinal's 
household.  Wolsey  cast  a  glance  of  hope  upon  this  wealth, 
and  ordered  his  officers  to  deliver  the  whole  to  his  majesty. 

*  Baldekinum,  pannus  omnium  ditissimus  cujus  utpote  stamen  ex  filo 
auri,  subtegmeu  ex  serico  texitnr,  plumario  opere  intertextus.  Ducange'a 
Glossary. 


WOLSEY  LEAVES  WHITEHALL.  483 

He  then  prepared  to  leave  his  magnificent  palace.  That 
moment,  of  itself  so  sad,  was  made  sadder  still  by  an  act  of 
affectionate  indiscretion.  "  Ah,  my  lord,"  said  his  treasurer, 
Sir  William  Gascoigne,  moved  even  to  tears,  "  your  grace 
will  be  sent  to  the  Tower."  This  was  too  much  for  Wolsey : 
to  go  and  join  his  victims! He  grew  angry,  and  ex- 
claimed :  "  Is  this  the  best  comfort  you  can  give  your 
master  in  adversity  ?  I  would  have  you  and  all  such  blas- 
phemous reporters  know  that  it  is  untrue." 

It  was  necessary  to  depart ;  he  put  round  his  neck  a 
chain  of  gold,  from  which  hung  a  pretended  relic  of  the 
true  cross;  this  was  all  he  took.  "Would  to  God,"  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  placed  it  on,  "that  I  had  never  had 
any  other."  This  he  said,  alluding  to  the  legate's  cross 
which  used  to  be  carried  before  him  with  so  much  pomp. 
He  descended  the  back  stairs,  followed  by  his  servants, 
some  silent  and  dejected,  others  weeping  bitterly,  and 
proceeded  to  the  river's  brink,  where  a  barge  awaited 
him.  But,  alas!  it  was  not  alone.  The  Thames  was 
covered  with  innumerable  boats  full  of  men  and  women. 
The  inhabitants  of  London,  expecting  to  see  the  cardinal  led 
to  the  Tower,  desired  to  be  present  at  his  humiliation,  and 
prepared  to  accompany  -him.  Cries  of  joy  hailing  his  fall 
were  heard  from  every  side ;  nor  were  the  crudest  sarcasms 
wanting.  "  The  butcher's  dog  will  bite  no  more,"  said  some ; 
"  look,  how  he  hangs  his  head."  In  truth,  the  unhappy  man, 
distressed  by  a  sight  so  new  to  him,  lowered  those  eyes 
which  were  once  so  proud,  but  now  were  filled  with  bitter 
tears.  This  man,  who  had  made  all  England  tremble,  was 
then  like  a  withered  leaf  carried  along  the  stream.  All  his 
servants  were  moved ;  even  his  fool,  William  Patch,  sobbed 
like  the  rest.  "0,  wavering  and  newfangled  multitude," 
exclaimed  Cavendish,  his  gentleman  usher.*  The  hopes  of 
the  citizens  were  disappointed ;  the  barge,  instead  of  descend- 
ing the  river,  proceeded  upwards  in  the  direction  of  Hamp- 
ton Court ;  gradually  the  shouts  died  away,  and  the  flotilla 
dispersed. 

The  silence  of  the  river  permitted  Wolsey  to  indulge  in 
'  Cavendish,  Wolsey,  p.  251. 


484  HENRY'S  GRACIOUS  MESSAGE. 

less  bitter  thoughts ;  but  it  seemed  as  if  invisible  furies  were 
pursuing  him,  now  that  the  people  had  left  him.  He  left  his 
barge  at  Putney,  and  mounting  his  mule,  though  with 
difficulty,  proceeded  slowly  with  downcast  looks.  Short- 
ly after,  upon  lifting  his  eyes,  he  saw  a  horseman  riding 
rapidly  down  the  hill  towards  them.  "  Whom  do  you  think 
it  can  be?  "  he  asked  of  his  attendants.  "  My  lord,"  replied 
one  of  them,  "  I  think  it  is  Sir  Henry  Norris."  A  flash  of 
joy  passed  through  Wolsey's  heart.  Was  it  not  Norris, 
who,  of  all  the  king's  officers,  had  shown  him  the  most 
respect  during  his  visit  to  Grafton  ?  Norris  came  up  with 
them,  saluted  him  respectfully,  and  said :  "  The  king  bids 
me  declare  that  he  still  entertains  the  same  kindly  feelings 
towards  you,  and  sends  you  this  ring  as  a  token  of  his  con- 
fidence." Wolsey  received  it  with  a  trembling  hand  :  it  was 
that  which  the  king  was  in  the  habit  of  sending  on  impor- 
tant occasions.  The  cardinal  immediately  alighted  from  his 
mule,  and  kneeling  down  in  the  road,  raised  his  hands  to 
heaven  with  an  indescribable  expression  of  happiness.  The 
fallen  man  would  have  pulled  off  his  velvet  under-cap,  but 
unable  to  undo  the  strings,  he  broke  them,  and  threw  it  on 
the  ground.  He  remained  on  his  knees  bareheaded,  praying 
fervently  _amidst  profound  silence.  God's  forgiveness  had 
never  caused  Wolsey  so  much  pleasure  as  Henry's. 

Having  finished  his  prayer,  the  cardinal  put  on  his  cap, 
and  remounted  his  mule.  "  Gentle  Norris,"  said  he  to  the 
king's  messenger,  "  if  I  were  lord  of  a  kingdom,  the  half  of 
it  would  scarcely  be  enough  to  reward  you  for  your  happy 
tidings ;  but  I  have  nothing  left  except  the  clothes  on  my 
back."  Then  taking  off  his  gold  chain:  "Take  this,"  he 
said,  "  it  contains  a  piece  of  the  true  cross.  In  my  happier 
days  I  would  not  have  parted  with  it  for  a  thousand  pounds." 
The  cardinal  and  Norris  separated :  but  Wolsey  soon  stopped, 
and  the  whole  troop  halted  on  the  heath.  The  thought 
troubled  him  greatly  that  he  had  nothing  to  send  to  the 
king ;  he  called  Norris  back,  and,  looking  round  him,  saw, 
mounted  on  a  sorry  horse,  poor  William  Patch,  who  had  lost 
all  his  gaiety  since  his  master's  misfortune.  "  Present  this 
poor  jester  to  the  king  from  me,"  said  Wolsey  to  Norris : 


WOLSEY'S  JESTER.  485 

**  liis  buffooneries  are  a  pleasure  fit  for  a  prince ;  he  is  worth 
a  thousand  pounds."  Patch,  offended  at  being  treated  thus, 
burst  into  a  violent  passion ;  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  he  foamed 
at  the  mouth,  he  kicked  and  fought,  and  bit  all  who  ap- 
proached him  ;*  but  the  inexorable  Wolsey,  who  looked  upon 
him  merely  as  a  toy,  ordered  six  of  his  tallest  yeomen  to  lay 
hold  of  him.  They  carried  off  the  unfortunate  creature,  who 
long  continued  to  utter  his  piercing  cries.  At  the  very 
moment  when  his  master  had  had  pity  on  him,  Wolsey,  like 
the  servant  in  the  parable,  had  no  pity  on  his  poor  companion 
in  misfortune. 

At  last  they  reached  Esher.     What  a  residence  compared 

with  Whitehall! It  was  little  more  than  four  bare  walls. 

The  most  urgent  necessaries  were  procured  from  the  neigh- 
bouring houses,  but  Wolsey  could  not  adapt  himself  to  this 
cruel  contrast.  Besides,  he  knew  Henry  VIII. ;  he  knew 
that  he  might  send  Norris  one  day  with  a  gold  ring,  and  the 
executioner  the  next  with  a  rope.  Gloomy  and  dejected,  he 
remained  seated  in  his  lonely  apartments.  On  a  sudden  he 
would  rise  from  his  seat,  walk  hurriedly  up  and  down,  speak 
aloud  to  himself,  and  then,  falling  back  in  his  chair,  he  would 
weep  like  a  child.  This  man,  who  formerly  had  shaken 
kingdoms,  had  been  overthrown  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
and  was  now  atoning  for  his  perfidies  in  humiliation  and 
terror, — a  striking  example  of  God's  judgment. 

*  The  poor  fool  took  on,  and  fired  so  in  such  a  rage.  Cavendish,  p.  257. 


486  LORD  CHANCELLOR  MORE. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Thomas  More  elected  Chancellor— A  lay  Government  one  of  the  great 
Facts  of  the  Reformation — Wolsey  accused  of  subordinating  England 
to  the  Pope — He  implores  the  King's  Clemency — His  Condemnation — 
Cromwell  at  Esher — His  Character— He  sets  out  for  London— Sir 
Christopher  Hales  recommends  him  to  the  King — Cromwell's  Interview 
with  Henry  in  the  Park — A  new  Theory— Cromwell  elected  Member 
of  Parliament— Opened  by  Sir  Thomas  More— Attack  on  ecclesiastical 
Abuses— Reforms  pronounced  by  the  Convocation — Three  Bills — Ro- 
chester attacks  them— Resistance  of  the  House  of  Commons — Struggles 
— Henry  sanctions  the  three  Bills — Alarm  of  the  Clergy  and  Distur- 
bances. 

DURING  all  this  time  everybody  was  in  commotion  at 
court.  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  at  the  head  of  the  council,  had 
informed  the  Star  Chamber  of  the  cardinal's  disgrace.  Henry 
knew  not  how  to  supply  his  place.  Some  suggested  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury ;  the  king  would  not  hear  of  him. 
"  Wolsey,"  says  a  French  writer,  "  had  disgusted  the  king 
and  all  England  with  those  subjects  of  two  masters  who, 
almost  always,  sold  one  to  the  other.  They  preferred  a  lay 
minister."  "  I  verily  believe  the  priests  will  never  more  ob- 
tain it,"  wrote  Du  Bellay.  The  name  of  Sir  Thomas  More 
was  pronounced.  He  was  a  layman,  and  that  quality, 
which  a  few  years  before  would,  perhaps,  have  excluded 
him,  was  now  a  recommendation.  A  breath  of  Protest- 
antism wafted  to  the  summit  of  honours  one  of  its  greatest 
enemies.  Henry  thought  that  More,  placed  between  the 
pope  and  his  sovereign,  would  decide  in  favour  of  the  inter- 
ests of  the  throne,  and  of  the  independence  of  England.  His 
choice  was  made. 

More  knew  that  the  cardinal  had  been  thrown  aside  be- 
cause he  was  not  a  sufficiently  docile  instrument  in  the 
matter  of  the  divorce.  The  work  required  of  him  was  con- 
trary to  his  convictions  5  but  the  honour  conferred  on  him 
was  almost  unprecedented ;  very  seldom  indeed  had  the 


IS  INSTALLED  BY  NORFOLK.  487 

seals  been  intrusted  to  a  mere  knight.*  He  followed  the 
path  of  ambition  and  not  of  duty ;  he  showed,  however,  in 
after-days  that  his  ambition  was  of  no  common  sort.  It  is 
even  probable  that,  foreseeing  the  dangers  which  threat- 
ened to  destroy  the  papal  power  in  England,  More  wished 
to  make  an  effort  to  save  it.  Norfolk  installed  the  new 
chancellor  in  the  Star  Chamber.  "  His  majesty,"  said  the 
duke,  "has  not  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  nobility  of  the 
blood,  but  on  the  worth  of  the  person.  He  desires  to  show 
by  this  choice  that  there  are  among  the  laity  and  gentle- 
men of  England,  men  worthy  to  fill  the  highest  offices  in 
the  kingdom,  to  which,  until  this  hour,  bishops  and  noble- 
men alone  think  they  have  a  right." -j-  The  Reformation, 
which  restored  religion  to  the  general  body'  of  the  church, 
took  away  at  the  same  time  political  power  from  the  clergy. 
The  priests  had  deprived  the  people  of  Christian  activity, 
and  the  governments  of  power ;  the  gospel  restored  to  both 
what  the  priests  had  usurped.  This  result  could  not  but  be 
favourable  to  the  interests  of  religion  ;  the  less  cause  kings 
and  their  subjects  have  to  fear  the  intrusion  of  clerical  power 
into  the  affairs  of  the  world,  the  more  will  they  yield  them- 
selves to  the  vivifying  influence  of  faith. 

More  lost  no  time ;  never  had  lord-chancellor  displayed 
such  activity.  He  rapidly  cleared  off^the  cases  which  were 
in  arrear,  and  having  been  installed  on  the  26th  of  October 
he  called  on  Wolsey's  cause  on  the  28th  or  29th.  "The 
crown  of  England,"  said  the  attorney-general,  "  has  never 
acknowledged  any  superior  but  God.  \  Now,  the  said  Tho- 
mas Wolsey,  legate  a  latere,  has  obtained  from  the  pope 
certain  bulls,  by  virtue  of  which*  he  has  exercised  since  the 
28th  of  August  1523  an  authority  derogatory  to  his  ma- 

•  It  has  been  often  asserted  that  Sir  Thomas  More  was  the  first  lay* 
man  to  whom  the  office  of  chancellor  was  intrusted  ;  but  there  were  no 
less  than  six  between  A.  D.  1342  and  1410  ;  viz.  Sir  Robert  Boucher, 
knight ;  Sir  Robert  de  Thorp,  knight  ;  Sir  R.  de  la  Scrope,  knight ;  Sir 
M.  de  la  Pole  ;  R,  Neville,  Earl  of  Salisbury ;  and  Sir  T.  Beaufort,  knight. 

t  More's  Life,  p.  172. 

£  The  crown  of  England,  free  at  all  times,  has  been  in  no  earthly  sub- 
lection,  but  immediately  subject  to  God  in  all  things.  Herbert,  p.  251. 
!See  also  Articles  of  Impeachment,  §  1. 


488  WOLSEY'S  REAL  CRIME. 

jesty's  power,  and  to  the  rights  of  his  courts  of  justice.  The 
crown  of  England  cannot  be  put  under  the  pope ;  and  we 
therefore  accuse  the  said  legate  of  having  incurred  the  pen- 
alties of  prcemunirc." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Henry  had  other  reasons  foi 
Wolsey's  disgrace  than  those  pointed  out  by  the  attorney- 
general;  but  England  had  convictions  of  a  higher  nature 
than  her  sovereign'?  VYolaey  was  regarded  as  the  pope's, 
accomplice,  and  this  was  the  cause  of  the  great  severity 
of  the  public  officer  and  of  the  people.  The  cardinal  is  gen- 
erally excused  by  alleging  that  both  king  and  parliament  haO 
ratified  the  unconstitutional  authority  with  which  Rome  hao 
invested  him;  but  had  not  the  powers  conferred  on  him 
by  the  pope  produced  unjustifiable  results  in  a  consti  • 
tutional  monar,  hy  ?  Wolsey,  as  papal  legate,  had  gov- 
erned England  without  a  parliament ;  and,  as  if  the  nation 
had  gone  back  to  the  reign  of  John,  he  had  substituted  de 
facto,  if  not  in  iheory,  the  monstrous  syelem  of  the  famous 
bull  Unam  Sa.nctam*  for  the  institution  of  Magna,  Ghana. 
The  king,  and  even  the  lords  and  commons,  had  connived  in 
vain  at  these  illegalities ;  the  rights  of  the  constitution  of 
England  remained  not  the  less  inviolable,  and  the  best  of  the 
people  had  protested  against  their  infringement.  And  hence 
it  was  that  Wolsey,  conscious  of  his  crime,  "  put  himself 
wholly  to  the  mercy  and  grace  of  the  king,"  •{-  and  his  coun- 
sel declared  his  ignorance  of  the  statutes  he  was  said  to 
have  infringed.  "We  cannot  here  allege,  as  some  have  done, 
the  prostration  of  Wolsey's  moral  powers ;  he  could,  even 
after  his  fall,  reply  with  energy  to  Henry  VIII.  When,  foi 
instance,  the  king  sent  to  demand  for  the  crown  his  palace  of 
Whitehall,  which  belonged  to  the  see  of  York,  the  cardinal 
answered  :  "  Show  his  majesty  from  me  that  I  must  desire 
him  to  call  to  his  most  gracious  remembrance  that  there  is 
both  a  heaven  and  a  hell;"  and  when  other  charges  besides 
those  of  complicity  with  the  papal  aggression  were  brought 
against  him,  he  defended  himself  courageously,  as  will  be 

*  Since  the  13th  of  Nov.  1302.    Raynold  ad  ann.    Uterque  ergo  gla- 
dius  est  in  potestate  ecclesiac,  spiritualis  scilicet  et  materialis. 
t  Cavendish,  p.  276. 


HIS  CONDEMNATION.  489 

afterwards  seen.  If,  therefore,  the  cardinal  did  not  attempt 
to  justify  himself  for  infringing  the  rights  of  the  crown,  it 
was  because  his  conscience  bade  him  be  silent.  He  had 
committed  one  of  the  gravest  faults  of  which  a  statesman 
can  be  guilty.  Those  who  have  sought  to  excuse  him  have 
not  sufficiently  borne  in  mind  that,  since  the  Great  Charter, 
opposition  to  Romish  aggression  has  always  characterized 
the  constitution  and  government  of  England.  Wolsey  per- 
fectly recollected  this  ;  and  this  explanation  is  more  honour- 
able to  him  than  that  which  ascribes  his  silence  to  weakness 
or  to  cunning. 

The  cardinal  was  pronounced  guilty,  and  the  court  passed 
judgment,  that  by  the  statute  of  prcemunire  his  property 
was  forfeited,  and  that  he  might  be  taken  before  the  king 
in  council.  England,  by  sacrificing  a  churchman  who  had 
placed  himself  above  kings,  gave  a  memorable  example  of 
her  inflexible  opposition  to  the  encroachments  of  the  papacy. 
Wolsey  was  confounded,  and  his  troubled  imagination  con- 
jured up  nothing  but  perils  on  every  side. 

While  More  was  lending  himself  to  the  condemnation  of 
his  predecessor,  whose  friend  he  had  been,  another  layman 
of  still  humbler  origin  was  preparing  to  defend  the  cardinal, 
and  by  that  very  act  to  become  the  appointed  instrument 
to  throw  down  the  convents  in  England,  and  to  shatter  the 
seculai  bonds  which  united  this  country  to  the  Roman 
pontiff. 

On  the  1st  of  November,  two  days  after  Wolsey's  condem- 
nation, one  of  his  officers,  with  a  prayer-book  in  his  hand, 
was  leaning  against  the  window  in  the  great  hall,  apparently 
absorbed  in  his  devotions.  "  Good-morrow,"  said  Caven- 
dish as  he  passed  him,  on  his  way  to  the  cardinal  for  his 
usual  morning  duties.  The  person  thus  addressed  raised 
his  head,  and  the  gentleman-usher,  seeing  that  his  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears,  asked  him  :  "  Master  Cromwell,  is  my 
lord  in  any  danger?" — "I  think  not,"  replied  Cromwell, 
"  but  it  is  hard  to  lose  in  a  moment  the  labour  of  a  life." 
In  his  master's  fall-Cromwell  foreboded  his  own.  Cavendish 
endeavoured  to  console  him.  "  God  willing,  this  is  my  re- 
solution," replied  Wolsey's  ambitious  solicitor ;  "  I  intend 

x2 


490  CROMWELL'S  RESOLUTION. 

this  afternoon,  as  soon  as  my  lord  has  dined,  to  ride  to  Lon- 
don, and  so  go  to  court,  where  I  will  either  make  or  mar  be- 
fore I  come  back  again."*  At  this  moment  Cavendish  was 
summoned,  and  he  entered  the  cardinal's  chamber. 

Cromwell,  devoured  by  ambition,  had  clung  to  Wolsey's 
robe  in  order  to  attain  power ;  but  Wolsey  had  fallen,  and 
the-  solicitor,  dragged  along  with  him,  strove  to  reach  by 
other  means  the  object  of  his  desires,  Cromwell  was  one 
of  those  earnest  and  vigorous  men  whom  God  prepares 
for  critical  times.  Blessed  with  a  solid  judgment  and  intre- 
pid firmness,  he  possessed  a  quality  rare  in  every  age,  and 
particularly  under  Henry  VIII., — fidelity  in  misfortune.  The 
ability  by  which  he  was  distinguished,  was  not  at  all  times 
without  reproach  :  success  seems  to  have  been  his  first 
thought. 

After  dinner  Cromwell  followed  Wolsey  into  his  private 
room :  "  My  lord,  permit  me  to  go  to  London,  I  will  en- 
deavour to  save  you."  A  gleam  passed  over  the  cardinal's 
saddened  features. — "  Leave  the  room,"  he  said  to  his  at- 
tendants. He  then  had  a  long  private  conversation  with 
Cromwell,-}-  at  the  end  of  which  the  latter  mounted  his  horse 
and  set  out  for  the  capital,  riding  to  the  assault  of  power 
with  the  same  activity  as  he  had  marched  to  the  attack 
of  Rome.  He  did  not  hide  from  himself  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  procure  access  to  the  king ;  for  certain  eccle- 
siastics, jealous  of  Wolsey,  had  spoken  against  his  solicitor 
at  the  time  of  the  secularization  of  the  convents,  and  Henry 
could  not  endure  him.  But  Cromwell  knew  that  fortune 
favours  the  bold,  and,  carried  away  by  his  ambitious  dreams, 
he  galloped  on,  saying  to  himself:  "  One  foot  in  the  stirrup, 
and  my  fortune  is  made  ! " 

Sir  Christopher  Hales,  a  zealous  Roman-catholic,  enter- 
tained a  sincere  friendship  for  him ;  and  to  this  friend 
Cromwell  applied.  Hales  proceeded  immediately  to  the 
palace  (2d  November)  where  he  found  a  numerous  com- 
pany talking  about  the  cardinal's  ruin.  "  There  was  one 
of  his  officers,''  said  Hales,  "  who  would  serve  your  majesty 

"  Cavendish,  p.  280. 

t  Long  communication  with  my  lord  in  secret.    Ibid.  p.  270. 


CROMWELL'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  HENRY.  491 

well."— "Who  is  he?"  asked  Henry.— "  Cromwell."— "  Do 
not  speak  to  me  of  that  man,  I  hate  him,"  replied  the  king 
angrily ;  *  and  upon  that  all  the  courtiers  chimed  in  with  his 
majesty's  opinion.  This  opening  was  not  very  encouraging; 
but  Lord  Russell,  earl  of  Bedford,  advancing  to  the  midst  of 
the  group  around  the  king,  said  boldly  :  f  "  Permit  me,  Sir, 
to  defend  a  man  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  my  life.  When 
you  sent  me  privately  into  Italy,  your  majesty's  enemies, 
having  discovered  me  at  Bologna,  would  have  put  me  to 
death,  had  not  Thomas  Cromwell  saved  me.  Sir,  since  you 
have  now  to  do  with  the  pope,  there  is  no  man  (I  think)  in 
all  England  who  will  be  fitter  for  your  purpose." — "  Indeed!" 
said  the  king;  and  after  a  little  reflection,  he  said  to  Hales: 
"  Very  well  then,  let  your  client  meet  me  in  Whitehall  gar- 
dens." The  courtiers  and  the  priests  withdrew  in  great  dis- 
comfiture. 

The  interview  took  place  the  same  day  at  the  appointed 
spot.  "  Sir,"  said  Cromwell  to  his  majesty,  "  the  pope  re- 
fuses your  divorce But  why  do  you  ask  his  consent? 

Every  Englishman  is  master  in  his  own  house,  and  why 
should  not  you  be  so  in  England  ?  Ought  a  foreign  pre- 
late to  share  your  power  with  you  ?  It  is  true,  the  bishops 
make  oath  to  your  majesty,  but  they  make  another  to  the 
pope  immediately  after,  which  absolves  them  from  the  for- 
mer. Sir,  you  are  but  half  a  king,  and  we  are  but  half 
your  subjects.  J  This  kingdom  is  a  two-headed  monster. 
Will  you  bear  with  such  an  anomaly  any  longer?  What! 
are  you  not  living  in  an  age  when  Frederick  the  Wise  and 
other  German  princes  have  thrown  off  the  yoke  of  Rome  ? 
Do  likewise;  become  once  more  a  king;  govern  your  king- 
dom in  concert  with  your  lords  and  commons.  Hencefor- 
ward let  Englishmen  alone  have  any  thing  to  say  in  England  ; 
lef  not  your  subjects'  money  be  cast  any  more  into  the 
yawning  gulf  of  the  Tiber;  instead  of  imposing  new  taxes 
on  the  nation,  convert  to  the  general  good  those  treasures 
which  have  hitherto  only  served  to  fatten  proud  priests  and 

*  The  kin/?  began  to  detest  the  mention  of  him.    Foxe,  v.  p.  366. 

t  In  a  vehement  boldness.    Ibid.  p.  367. 

£  Ibid.    See  also  Apol.  Regin.  Poli  ad  Car.  i.  p.  120,  121. 


492  CROMWELL'S  ADVICE  PLEASES  HENRY. 

lazy  friars.  Now  is  the  moment  for  action.  Rely  upon 
your  parliament ;  proclaim  yourself  the  head  of  the  church 
in  England.  Then  shall  you  see  an  increase  of  glory  to 
your  name,  and  of  prosperity  to  your  people." 

Never  before  had  such  language  been  addressed  to  a  king 
of  England.  It  was  not  only  on  account  of  the  divorce  that 
it  was  necessary  to  break  with  Rome ;  it  was,  in  Cromwell's 
view,  on  account  of  the  independence,  glory,  and  prosperity 
of  the  monarchy.  These  considerations  appeared  more  im- 
portant to  Henry  than  those  which  had  hitherto  been  laid 
before  him  ;  none  of  the  kings  of  England  had  been  so  well 
placed  as  he  was  to  understand  them.  When  a  Tudor  had 
succeeded  to  the  Saxon,  Norman,  and  Plantagenet  kings,  a 
man  of  the  free  race  of  the  Celts  had  taken  on  the  throne  of 
England  the  place  of  princes  submissive  to  the  Roman  pon- 
tiffs. The  ancient  British  church,  independent  of  the  papacy, 
was  about  to  rise  again  with  this  new  dynasty,  and  the  Cel- 
tic race,  after  eleven  centuries  of  humiliation,  to  recover  its 
ancient  heritage.  Undoubtedly,  Henry  had  no  recollections 
of  this  kind ;  but  he  worked  in  conformity  with  the  peculiar* 
character  of  his  race,  without  being  aware  of  the  instinct 
which  compelled  him  to  act.  He  felt  that  a  sovereign  who 
submits  to  the  pope,  becomes,  like  King  John,  his  vassal ; 
and  now,  after  having  been  the  second  in  his  realm,  he  de- 
sired to  be  the  first. 

The  king  reflected  on  what  Cromwell  had  said ;  aston- 
ished and  surprised,  he  sought  to  understand  the  new  posi- 
tion which  his  bold  adviser  had  made  for  him.  "  Your  pro- 
posal pleases  me  much,"  he  said  ;  "but  can  you  prove  what 
you  assert?"  "  Certainly,"  replied  this  able  politician;"! 
have  with  me  a  copy  of  the  oath  the  bishops  make  to  the 
Roman  pontiff."  With  these  words  he  drew  a  paper  from 
his  pocket,  and  placed  the  oath  before  the  king's  eye?. 
Henry,  jealous  of  his  authority  even  to  despotism,  was  filled 
with  indignation,  and  felt  the  necessity  of  bringing  down 
that  foreign  authority  which  dared  dispute  the  power  with 
him,  even  in  his  own  kingdom.  He  drew  off  his  ring  and 
gave  it  to  Cromwell,  declaring  that  he  took  him  into  his 
service,  and  soon  after  made  him  a  member  of  his  privy 


MEETING  OP  PARLIAMENT.  493 

council.  England,  we  may  say,  was  now  virtually  emanci- 
pated from  the  papacy. 

Cromwell  had  laid  the  first  foundations  of  his  greatness. 
He  had  remarked  the  path  his  master  had  followed,  and 
which  had  led  to  his  ruin, — complicity  with  the  pope ;  and  he 
hoped  to  succeed  by  following  the  contrary  course,  namely, 
by  opposing  the  papacy.  He  had  the  king's  support,  but  he 
wanted  more.  Possessing  a  clear  and  easy  style  of  elo- 
quence, he  saw  what  influence  a  seat  in  the  great  "council 
of  the  nation  would  give  him.  It  was  somewhat  late,  for 
the  session  began  on  the  next  day  (3d  November),  but  to 
Cromwell  nothing  was  impossible.  The  son  of  his  friend, 
Sir  Thomas  Rush, had  been  returned  to  parliament;  but  the 
young  member  resigned  his  seat,  and  Cromwell  was  elected 
in  his  place. 

Parliament  had  not  met  for  seven  years,  the  kingdom  hav- 
ing been  governed  by  a  prince  of  the  Roman  church.  The 
reformation  of  the  church,  whose  regenerating  influence 
began  to  be  felt  already,  was  about  to  restore  to  the  na- 
tion those  ancient  liberties  of  which  a  cardinal  had  robbed  it; 
and  Henry  being  on  the  point  of  taking  very  important  reso- 
lutions, felt  the  necessity  of  drawing  nearer  to  his  people. 
Everything  betokened  that  a  good  feeling  would  prevail 
between  the  parliament  and  the  crown,  and  that  "  the  priests 
would  have  a  terrible  fright."* 

While  Henry  was  preparing  to  attack  the  Roman  church 
in  the  papal  supremacy,  the  commons  were  getting  ready  to 
war  against  the  numerous  abuses  with  which  it  had  covered 
England.  "  Some  even  thought."  says  Tyndale,  "  that  this 
assembly  would  reform  the  church,  and  that  the  golden  age 
would  come  again."-}-  But  it  w^s  not  from  acts  of  parliament 
that  the  Reformation  was  destined  to  proceed,  but  solely  from 
the  word  of  God.  And  yet  the  commons,  without  touching 
upon  doctrine,  were  going  to  do  their  duty  manfully  in  things 
within  their  province,  and  the  parliament  of  1529  may  be 
regarded  (Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury  observes)  as  the  first 

*  Du  Bellay  to  Montmorency.    Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  378,  380. 
t  Works,  L  p.  481. 


494  THREE  BILLS  OF  REFORM. 

Protestant  parliament  of  England.*  "The  bishops  require 
excessive  fines  for  the  probates  of  wills,"  said  Tyndale's  old 
friend,  Sir  Henry  Guilford.  "  As  testamentary  executor  to 
Sir  William  Compton  I  had  to  pay  a  thousand  marks  ster- 
ling."— "  The  spiritual  men,"  said  another  member,  "would 
rather  see  the  poor  orphans  die  of  hunger  than  give  them  the 
lean  cow,  the  only  thing  their  father  left  them."f — "  Priests," 
said  another,  "have  farms,  tanneries,  and  warehouses,  all 
over  the  country.  In  short,  the  clerks  take  everything  from 
their  flocks,  and  not  only  give  them  nothing,  but  even  deny 
them  the  word  of  God." 

The  clergy  were  in  utter  consternation.  The  power  of  the 
nation  seemed  to  awaken  in  this  parliament  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  attacking  the  power  of  the  priest.  It  was  im- 
portant to  ward  off  these  blows.  The  convocation  of  the 
province  of  Canterbury,  assembling  at  "Westminster  on  the 
5th  of  November,  thought  it  their  duty,  in  self-defence,  to 
reform  the  most  crying  abuses.  It  was  therefore  decreed,  on 
the  12th  of  November,  that  the  priests  should  no  longer  keep 
shops  or  taverns,  play  at  dice  or  other  forbidden  games,  pass 
the  night  in  suspected  places,  be  present  at  disreputable 
shows,*  go  about  with  sporting  dogs,  or  with  hawks,  falcons, 
or  other  birds  of  prey,  on  their  fist ;  §  or,  finally,  hold  sus- 
picious intercourse  with  women.||  Penalties  were  denounced 
against  these  various  disorders  ;  they  were  doubled  in  case 
of  adultery ;  and  still  further  increased  in  the  case  of  more 
abominable  impurities.^  Such  were  the  laws  rendered  ne- 
cessary by  the  manners  of  the  clergy. 

These  measures  did  not  satisfy  the  commons.  Three  bills 
were  introduced  having  reference  to  the  fees  on  the  probate 

*  It  was  the  first  step,  a  great  and  bold  sally  towards  thai  reforma- 
tion. Herbert,  p.  320. 

•f-  Rather  than  give  to  them  the  silly  cow,  if  he  had  but  only  one 
Foxe,  iv.  p.  611. 

J  Quod  non  exerceant  tabernas,  nee  ludant  taxillis  vel  aliis  ludis  pro- 
hibitis  ;  quod  non  pernoctent  in  locis  suspectis  ;  quod  non  intersint  in- 
honestis  spectaculis,  &c.  Convocatio  przelatorum.  Wilkins,  Concilia 
iii.  p.  717. 

§  Canes  venaticos  loris  ducere  ac  accipitres  manibus.    Ibid.  p.  723. 

H  Mulierum  colloquia  snspecta  nullatenus  habeant.    Ibid.  p.  722. 

^f  Et  in  cfeteris  carnis  spurcitiis  pcena  crescat.    Ibid.  p.  721. 


THE  KING'S  CONSENT.  495 

of  wills,  mortuaries,  pluralities,  non-residence,  and  the  exer- 
cise of  secular  professions.  "-The  destruction  of  the  church 
is  aimed  at,"  exclaimed  Bishop  Fisher,  when  these  bills  were 
carried  to  the  lords,  "  and  if  the  church  falls,  the  glory  of 
the  kingdom  will  perish.  Lutheranism  is  making  great  pro- 
gress amongst  us,  and  the  savage  cry  that  has  already 
echoed  in  Bohemia,  Down  with  the  church,  is  now  uttered  by 

the  commons How  does  that  come  about  ?    Solely  from 

want  of  faith. — My  lords,  save  your  country!  save  the 
church!"  Sir  Thomas  Audley,  the  speaker,  with  a  deputa- 
tion of  thirty  members,  immediately  went  to  Whitehall. 
"  Sir,"  they  said  to  the  king,  "  we  are  accused  of  being  with- 
out faith,  and  of  being  almost  as  bad  as  the  Turks.  We  de- 
mand an  apology  for  such  offensive  language."  Fisher  pre- 
tended that  he  only  meant  to  speak  of  the  Bohemians;  and 
the  commons,  by  no  means  satisfied,  zealously  went  on  with 
their  reforms. 

These  the  king  was  resolved  to  concede ;  but  he  deter- 
mined to  take  advantage  of  them  to  present  a  bill  mak- 
ing over  to  him  all  the  money  borrowed  of  his  subjects. 
John  Petit,  one  of  the  members  for  the  city,  boldly  op- 
posed this  demand.  "  I  do  not  know  other  persons'  affairs," 
he  said,  "and  I  cannot  give  what  does  not  belong  to 
me.  But  as  regards  myself  personally,  I  give  without  re- 
serve all  that  I  have  lent  the  king."  The  royal  bill  passed, 
and  the  satisfied  Henry  gave  his  consent  to  the  bills  of  the 
commons.  Every  dispensation  coming  from  Rome,  which 
might  be  contrary  to  the  statutes,  was  strictly  forbidden. 
'  The  bishops  exclaimed  that  the  commons  were  becoming 
schismatical ;  disturbances  were  excited  by  certain  priests ; 
but  the  clerical  agitators  were  punished,  and  the  people, 
when  they  heard  of  it,  were  delighted  beyond  measure. 


496         JOY  OF  THE  BELIEVERS  t    ALARM  OF  THE  CLERGY. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  last  Hour— More's  Fanaticism — Debates  in  Convocation — Royal 
Proclamation — The  Bishop  of  Norwich — Sentences  condemned — La- 
timer's  Opposition— The  New  Testament  Burnt — The  Persecution  be- 
gins— Hitton — Bayfield — Tonstall  and  Packington — Bayfield  arrested 
— The  Rector  Patmore — Lollards'  Tower — Tyndale  and  Patmore — a 
Musician— Freese  the  Painter — Placards  and  Martyrdom  of  Bennet— 
Thomas  More  and  John  Petit — Bilney. 

THE  moment  when  Henry  aimed  his  first  blows  at  Rome 
was  also  that  in  which  he  began  to  shed  the  blood  of  the 
disciples  of  the  gospel.  Although  ready  to  throw  off  the 
authority  of  the  pope,  he  would  not  recognise  the  authority 
of  Christ :  obedience  to  the  Scriptures  is,  however,  the  very 
soul  of  the  Reformation. 

The  king's  contest  with  Rome  had  filled  the  friends  of 
Scripture  with  hope.  The  artisans  and  tradesmen,  parti- 
cularly those  who  lived  near  the  sea,  were  almost  wholly 
won  over  to  the  gospel.  "  The  king  is  one  of  us,"  they  used 
to  boast ;  "  he  wishes  his  subjects  to  read  the  New  Testa- 
ment. Our  faith,  which  is  the  true  one,  will  circulate  through 
the  kingdom,  and  by  Michaelmas  next  those  who  believe  as 
we  do  will  be  more  numerous  than  those  of  a  contrary  opin- 
ion. We  are  ready,  if  needs  be,  to  die  in  the  struggle."* 
This  was  indeed  to  be  the  fate  of  many. 
.  Language  such  as  this  aroused  the  clergy:  "  The  last  hour 
has  come,"  said  Stokesley,  who  had  been  raised  to  the  see  of 
London  after  Tonstall' s  translation  to  Durham  ;  "  if  we 
would  not  have  Luther's  heresy  pervade  the  whole  of  Eng- 
land, we  must  hasten  to  throw  it  in  the  sea."  Henry  was 
/ully  disposed  to  do  so ;  but  as  he  was  not  on  very  good 
terms  with  the  clergy,  a  man  was  wanted  to  serve  as  media- 
tor between  him  and  the  bishops.  He  was  soon  found. 

*  The  bishop  of  Norwich  to  Primate  Warham,  14th  May  1530.  Cotton 
MSS.    Cleopatra,  E.  v.  folio  360  ;  Bible  Annals,  i.  p.  256. 


T1IE  BISHOPS*  DEMAND.  497 

Sir  Thomas  More's  noble  understanding  was  then  passing 
from  ascetic  practices  to  fanaticism,  and  the  humanist  turn- 
ing into  an  inquisitor.  In  his  opinion,  the  burning  of  here- 
tics was  just  and  necessary.*  He  has  even  been  reproached 
with  binding  evangelical  Christians  to  a  tree  in  his  garden, 
which  he  called  "  the  tree  of  truth,"  and  of  having  flogged 
them  with  his  own  hand.f  More  has  declared  that  he  never 
gave  "  stripe  nor  stroke,  nor  so  much  as  a  fillip  on  the  fore- 
head," to  any  of  his  religious  adversaries ; \  and  we  willingly 
credit  his  denial.  All  must  be  pleased  to  think  that  if  the 
author  of  the  Utopia  was  a  severe  judge,  the  hand  which 
held  one  of  the  most  famous  pens  of  the  sixteenth  century 
never  discharged  the  duties  of  an  executioner. 

The  bishops  led  the  attack.  "  We  must  clear  the  Lord's 
field  of  the  thorns  which  choke  it,"  said  the  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury to  Convocation  on  the  29th  of  November  1529  ; 
immediately  after  which  the  bishop  of  Bath  read  to  his  col- 
leagues the  list  of  books  that  he  desired  to  have  condemned. 
There  were  a  number  of  works  by  TynMale,  Luther,  Me- 
lancthon,  Zwingle,  (Ecolampadius,  Pomeranus,  Brentius, 
Bucer,  Jonas,  Francis  Lambert,  Fryth,  and  Fish.§  The 
Bible  in  particular  was  set  down.  "  It  is  impossible  to 
translate  the  Scripture  into  English,"  said  one  of  the  pre- 
lates, [j — u  It  is  not  lawful  for  the  laity  to  read  it  in  their 
mother  tongue,"  said  another. — "  If  you  tolerate  the  Bible," 
added  a  third,  "  you  will  make  us  all  heretics." — "  By  circu- 
lating the  Scriptures,"  exclaimed  several,  "  you  will  raise  up 
the  nation  against  the  king."  Sir  T.  More  laid  the  bishops' 
petition  before  the  king,  and  some  time  after,  Henry  gave 
orders  by  proclamation  that  "  no  one  should  preach,  or  write 
any  book,  or  keep  any  school  without  his  bishop's  license ; — 
that  no  one  should  keep  any  heretical  book  in  his  house ; — 

*  More's  Works  ;  A  Dialogue  concerning  Heresies,  p.  274. 

•f-  Strype's  Mem.  vol.  i.  p.  315  ;  Foxe,  iv.  p.  698. 

J  Apology,  ch.  xxxvi.  p.  901,  902. 

§  Sec  the  catalogue  in  Wilkins'  Concilia,  p.  713  to  7-0.  Wilkins  is  of 
opinion  (p.  71"  note)  that  this  document  belongs  to  theyrar  1529.  There 
are,  howv.'tr,  some  portions  of  these  slaluta  which  have  evident  reference 
to  the  year  foi lowing. 

||  Tyndale's  Works,  voL  i.  p.  1. 
VOL.  T.  22 


498  LATIMER  SEEKS  CHRIST'S  VOICE. 

that  the  bishops  should  detain  the  offenders  in  prison  at  their 
discretion,  and  then  proceed  to  the  execution  of  the  guilty ; 
— and,  finally,  that  the  chancellor,  the  justices  of  the  peace, 
and  other  magistrates,  should  aid  and  assist  the  bishops."* 
Such  was  the  cruel  proclamation  of  Henry  VIII,  "  the  father 
of  the  English  Reformation. 

The  clergy  were  not  yet  satisfied.  The  blind  and  octo- 
genarian bishop  of  Norwich,  being  more  ardent  than  the 
youngest  of  his  priests,  recommenced  his  complaints.  "  My 
diocese  is  accumbered  with  such  as  read  the  Bible,"  said  he 
to  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  "  and  there  is  not  a  clerk 
from  Cambridge  but  savoureth  of  the  frying-pan.  If  this 
continues  any  time,  they  will  undo  us  all.  We  must  have 
greater  authority  to  punish  them  than  we  have." 

Consequently,  on  the  24th  of  May  1530,  More,  Warham, 
Tonstall,  and  Gardiner  having  been  admitted  into  St  Ed- 
ward's chamber  at  Westminster,  to  make  a  report  to  the 
king  concerning  heresy,  they  proposed  forbiding,  in  the  most 
positive  manner,  the  New  Testament  and  certain  other  books 
in  which  the  following  doctrines  were  taught :  "  That  Christ 
has  shed  his  blood  for  our  iniquities,  as  a  sacrifice  to  the 
Father. — Faith  only  doth  justify  us. — Faith  without  good 
works  is  no  little  or  weak  faith,  it  is  no  faith. — Labouring  in 
good  works  to  come  to  heaven,  thou  dost  shame  Christ's 
blood."f 

Whilst  nearly  every  one  in  the  audience-chamber  supported 
the  prayer  of  tfce  petition,  there  were  three  or  four  doctors  who 
kept  silence.  At  last  one  of  them,  it  was  Latimer,  opposed 
the  proposition.  Bilney's  friend  was  more  decided  than  ever 
to  listen  to  no  other  voice  than  God's.  "  Christ's  sheep  hear 
no  man's  voice  but  Christ's,"  he  answered  Dr  Redman,  who 
had  called  upon  him  to  submit  to  the  church ;  "  trouble  me 
no  more  from  the  talking  with  the  Lord  my  God."|  The 
church,  in  Latimer's  opinion,  presumed  to  set  up  its  own  voice 
in  the  place  of  Christ's,  and  the  Reformation  did  the  con- 
trary ;  this  was  his  abridgment  of  the  controversy.  Being 

•  Foxe,  iv.  p.  677,  678. 

f  Wilkins,  Concilia,  iii.  p.  728-731. 

£  Latimer  s  Remain^  p.  297. 


CLERICAL  TEACHING  UPHELD.  499 

called  upon  to  preach  during  Christmas  tide,  he  had  cen- 
sured his  hearers  because  they  celebrated  that  festival  by 
playing  at  cards,  like  mere  worldlings,  and  then  proceeded  to 
lay  before  their  eyes  Christ's  cards,  that  is  to  say,  his  laws.* 
Being  placed  on  the  Cambridge  commission  to  examine  into 
the  question  of  the  king's  marriage,  he  had  conciliated  the 
esteem  of  Henry's  deputy,  Doctor  Butts,  the  court  physician 
who  had  presented  him  to  his  master,  by  whose  orders  he 
preached  at  Windsor. 

Henry  felt  disposed  at  first  to  yield  something  to  Latimer. 
"  Many  of  my  subjects,"  said  he  to  the  prelates  assembled  in 
St  Edward's  hall,  "  think  that  it  is  my  duty  to  cause  the  Scrip- 
tures to  be  translated  and  given  to  the  people."  The  discus- 
sion immediately  began  between  the  two  parties  ;f  and 
Latimer  concluded  by  asking  "that  the  Bible  should  be 
permitted  to  circulate  freely  in  English." f — "But  the  most 
part  overcame  the  better,"  he  tells  us."§  Henry  declared 
that  the  teaching  of  the  priests  was  sufficient  for  the  people, 
and  was  content  to  add,  "  that  he  would  give  the  Bible  to 
his  subjects  when  they  renounced  the  arrogant  pretension  of 
interpreting  it  according  to  their  own  fancies." — "  Shun  these 
hooks,"  cried  the  priests  from  the  pulpit,  "  detest  them,  keep 
them  not  in  your  hands,  deliver  them  up  to  your  superiors."  || 
Or  if  you  do  not,  your  prince,  who  has  received  from  God  the 
sword  of  justice,  will  use  it  to  punish  you."  Rome  had  every 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  Henry  VIII.  Tonstall,  who  still 
kept  under  lock  and  key  the  Testaments  purchased  at  Ant- 
werp through  Packington's  assistance,  ha'ci  them  carried  to 
St  Paul's  churchyard,  where  they  were  publicly  burnt.  The 
spectators  retired  shaking  the  head,  and  saying:  "The 
teaching  of  the  priests  and  of  Scriptures  must  be  in  contra- 
diction to  each  other,  since  the  prtests  destroy  them."  Lati- 
mer did  more :  "  You  have  promised  us  the  word  of  God," 
he  wrote  courageously  to  the  king;  "perform  your  promise 
now  rather  than  to-morrow !  The  day  is  at  hand  when  you  • 
shall  give  an  account  of  your  office,  and  of  the  blood  that 

*  Sermons,  p.  8.  t  Wilkins,  Concilia,  iii.  p.  736. 

t  Latimer's  Remains,  p.  305.  §  Ibid. 

y  Wilkins,  Concilip,  iii.  p.  736. 


500  BAYFIELD  IMPORTS  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 

hath  been  shed  with  your  sword."*  Latimer  well  knew  thai 
by  such  language  he  hazarded  his  life;  but  that  he  was 
ready  to  sacrifice,  as  he  tells  us  himself.-}- 

Persecution  soon  came.  Just  as  the  sun  appeared  to  be 
rising  on  the  Reformation,  the  storm  burst  forth.  "  There 
was  not  a  stone  the  bishops  left  unrcmoved,"  says  the 
chronicler,  "  any  corner  unsearched,  for  the  diligent  execu- 
tion of  the  king's  proclamation  •  whereupon  ensued  a  grie- 
vous persecution  and  slaughter  of  the  faithful."  J 

Thomas  Hitton,  a  poor  and  pious  minister  of  Kent,  used 
to  go  frequently  to  Antwerp  to  purchase  New  Testaments. 
As  he  was  returning  from  one  of  these  expeditions,  in  1529, 
the  bishop  of  Rochester  caused  him  to  be  arrested  at  Graves- 
end,  and  put  to  the  cruelest  tortures,  to  make  him  deny  his 
faith.  §  But  the  martyr  repeated  with  holy  enthusiasm  : 
"  Salvation  cometh  by  faith  and  not  by  works,  and  Christ 
giveth  it  to  whomsoever  he  willeth."  ||  On  the  iOth  of  Feb- 
ruary 1530,  he  was  tied  to  the  stake  and  there  burnt  to 
death.^ 

Scarcely  were  Hitton's  sufferings  ended  for  bringing  the 
Scriptures  into  England,  when  a  vessel  laden  with  New 
Testaments  arrived  at  Colchester.  The  indefatigable  Bay- 
field,  who  accompanied  these  books,  sold  them  in  London, 
went  back  to  the  continent,  and  returned  to  England  in 
November ;  but  this  time  the  Scriptures  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Sir  Thomas  More.  Bayfield,  undismayed,  again  visited 
the  Low  Countries,  and  soon  reappeared,  bringing  with  him 
the  New  Testament  and  the  works  of  almost  all  the  Re- 
formers. "  How  cometh  it  that  there  are  so  many  New 
Testaments  from  abroad  ?  "  asked  Tonstall  of  Packington ; 
"  you  promised  me  that  you  would  buy  them  all." — "  They 
have  printed  more  since,"'  replied  the  wily  merchant ;  "  and 
it  will  never  be  better  so  long  as  they  have  letters  and 

*  Latimer's  Remains,  p.  308. 

f  I  had  rather  suffer  extreme  punishment.    Ibid.  p.  298. 
J  Foxe,  vol.  iv.  p.  679. 

§  Dieted  and  tormented  him  secretly.    Tyndale's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  485. 
||  For  the  constant  and  manifest  testimony  of  Jesus  Christ  and  of  big 
free  grace  and  salvation.    Foxe,  vol.  iv.  p.  619. 
*[  The  bishops  murdered  him  most  cruelly.    Tyndale,  vol.  i.  p.  485. 


BAYFIELD  IK  PRISON  WITH  PATMORE.  501 

stamps  [type  and  dies.]  My  lord,  you  had  better  buy  the 
stamps  too,  and  so  you  shall  be  sure."* 

Instead  of  the  stamps,  the  priests  sought  after  Bayfield. 
The  bishop  of  London  could  not  endure  this  godly  man. 
Having  one  day  asked  Bainham  (who  afterwards  suffered 
martyrdom)  whether  he  knew  a  single  individual  who,  since 
the  days  of  the  apostles,  had  lived  according  to  the  true 
faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  the  latter  answered:  uYes,  I  know 
Bayfield."  -j-  Being  tracked  from  place  to  place,  he  fled 
from  the  house  of  his  pious  hostess,  and  hid  himself  at  his 
binder's,  where  he  was  discovered,  and  thrown  into  the 
Lollard's  tower.  J 

As  he  entered  the  prison  Bayfield  noticed  a  priest  named 
Patmore,  pale,  weakened  by  suffering,  and  ready  to  sink 
under  the  ill  treatment  of  his  jailers.  Patmore,  won  over 
by  Bayfield's  piety,  soon  opened  his  heart  to  him.  When 
rector  of  Haddam,  he  had  found  the  truth  in  Wickliffe's 
writings.  "  They  have  burnt  his  bones,"  he  said,  "  but 
from  his  ashes  shall  burst  forth  a  well-spring  of  life."  §  De- 
lighting in  good  works,  he  used  to  fill  his  granaries  with 
wheat,  and  when  the  markets  were  high,  he  would  send  his 
corn  to  them  in  such  abundance  as  to  bring  down  the  prices. || 
"  It  is  contrary  to  the  law  of  God  to  burn  heretics,"  he  said ; 
and  growing  bolder,  he  added :  "  I  care  no  more  for  the 
pope's  curse  than  for  a  bundle  of  hay."  ^[ 

His  curate,  Simon  Smith,  unwilling  to  imitate  the  disor- 
derly lives  oT  the  priests,  and  finding  Joan  Bennore,  the 
rector's  servant,  to  be  a  discreet  and  pious  person,  desired  to 
marry  her.  "  God,"  said  Patmore,  "  has  declared  marriage 
lawful  for  all  men  ;  and  accordingly  it  is  permitted  to  the 
priests  in  foreign  parts."  **  The  rector  alluded  to  Wittem- 
berg,  where  he  had  visited  Luther.  After  his  marriage 
Smith  and  his  wife  quitted  England  for  a  season,  a'nd  Pat- 
more  accompanied  them  as  far  as  London. 

•  Foxe,  vol.  ir.  p.  670. 

•T  Ibid.  p.  699.  J  Ibid.  p.  681. 

§  Ibid.  vol.  v.  p.  34.  ||  Ibid.  vol.  ir.  p.  GS1. 

H  Ibid. 

*•  Yet  it  was  in  other  countries  beyond  sea     Ibid. 


502  BAYF1ELD  IN  THE  COAL-CELLAK. 

The  news  of  this  marriage  of  a  priest — a  fact  without  pre- 
cedent in  England — made  Stokesley  throw  Patmore  into  the 
Lollards'  tower,  and  although  he  was  ill,  neither  fire,  light, 
nor  any  other  comfort  was  granted  him.  The  bishop  and 
his  vicar-general  visited  him  alone  in  his  prison,  and  en- 
deavoured by  their  threats,  to  make  him  deny  his  faith. 

It  was  during  these  circumstances  that  Bayfield  was 
thrust  into  the  tower.  By  his  Christian  words  he  revived 
Patmore's  languishing  faith,*  and  the  latter  complained  to 
the  king  that  the  bishop  of  London  prevented  his  feeding 
the  flock  which  God  had  committed  to  his  charge.  Stokes- 
ley, comprehending,  whence  Patmore  derived  his  new  cour- 
rage,f  removed  Bayfield  from  the  Lollards'  tower,  and  shut 
him  up  in  the  coal-house,  where  he  was  fastened  upright  to  the 
wall  by  the  neck,  middle,  and  legs.:):  The  unfortunate  gos- 
peller of  Bury  passed  his  time  in  continual  darkness,  never 
lying  down,  never  seated,  but  nailed  as  it  were  to  the  wall, 
and  never  hearing  the  sound  of  human  voice.  We  shall 
see  him  hereafter  issuing  from  this  horrible  prison  to  die 
on  the  scaffold. 

Patmore  was  not  the  only  one  in  his  family  who  suffered 
persecution  ;  he  had  in  London  a  brother  named  Thomas,  a 
friend  of  John  Tyndale,  the  younger  brother  of  the  celebrated 
reformer.  Thomas  had  said  that  the  truth  of  Scripture  was 
at  last  reappearing  in  the  world,  after  being  hidden  for 
many  ages  ;§  and  John  Tyndale  had  sent  five  marks  to  his 
brother  William,  and  received  letters  from  him*.  Moreover, 
the  two  friends  (who  were  both  tradesmen)  had  distributed  a 
great  number  of  Testaments  and  other  works.  But  their 
faith  was  not  deeply  rooted,  and  it  was  more  out  of  sympathy 
for  their  brothers  that  they  had  believed  ;  accordingly,  Stokes- 
ley, so  completely  entangled  them,  that  they  confessed  th^ir 
"  crime."  More,  delighted  at  the  opportunity  which  offered 
to  cover  the  name  of  Tyndale  with  shame,  was  not  satisfied 
with  condemning  the  two  friends  to  pay  a  fine  of  £100 
<*4ch ;  he  invented  a  new  disgrace.  He  sewed  on  their  dress 

*  Confirmed  by  him  in  the  doctrine.    Foxe,  vol.  iv.  p.  6K. 
+  Confirmed  him  iu  the  doctrine.    Ibid.  p.  C8. 
$  Ibid.  §  Ibid.  v.  p.  34. 


EDWARD  FREESE  GOES  MAD.  503 

some  sheets  of  the  New  Testament  which  they  had  circu- 
lated, placed  the  two  penitents  on  horseback  with  their  faces 
towards  the  tail,  and  thus  paraded  them- through  the  streets 
of  London,  exposed  to  the  jeers  and  laughter  of  the  popu- 
lace. In  this,  More  succeeded  better  than  in  his  refutation 
of  the  reformer's  writings. 

From  that  time  the  persecution  became  more  violent. 
Husbandmen,  ajtists,  tradespeople,  and  even  noblemen,  felt 
the  cruel  fangs  of  the  clergy  and  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  They 
sent  to  jail  a  pious  musician  who  used  to  wander  from  town 
to  town,  singing  to  his  harp  a  hymn  in  commendation  of 
Martin  Luther  and  of  the  Reformation.*  A  painter,  named 
Edward  Freese,  a  young  man  of  ready  wit,  having  been  en- 
gaged to  paint  some  hangings  in  a  house,  wrote  on  the  bor- 
ders certain  sentences  of  the  Scripture.  For  this  he  was 
seized  and  taken  to  the  bishop  of  London's  palace  at  Fulham, 
and  there  imprisoned,  where  his  chief  nourishment  was  bread 
made  out  of  sawdust.-}-  His  poor  wife,  who  was  pregnant, 
went  down  to  Fulham  to  see  her  husband ;  but  the  bishop's 
porter  had  orders  to  admit  no  one,  and  the  brute  gave  her  so 
violent  a  kick,  as  to  kill  her  unborn  infant,  and  cause  the 
mother's  death  not  long  after.  The  unhappy  Freese  was  re- 
moved to  the  Lollards'  tower,  where  he  was  put  into  chains,  his 
hands  only  being  left  free.  With  these  he  took  a  piece  of  coal, 
and  wrote  some  pious  sentences  on  the  wall ;  upon  this  he  was 
manacled,  but  his  wrists  were  so  severely  pinched,  that  the 
flesh  grew  up  higher  than  the  irons.  His  intellect  became 
disturbed ;  his  hair  in  wild  disorder  soon  covered  his  face, 
through  which  his  eyes  glared  fierce  and  haggard.  The 
want  of  proper  food,  bad  treatment,  his  wife's  death,  and 
his  lengthened  imprisonment,  entirely  undermined  his  rea- 
son ;  when  brought  to  St  Paul's,  he  was  kept  three  days 
without  meat ;  and  when  he  appeared  before  the  consis- 
tory,, the  poor  prisoner,  silent  and  scarce  able  to  stand,  looked 
around  and  gazed  upon  the  spectators  "  like  a  wild  man." 
The  examination  was  begun,  but  to  every  question  put  to 

•  His  name  was  Robert  Lambe.    Foxe,  v.  p.  34. 
•f-  Fed  with  fine  manchet  made  of  sawdust,  or  at  least  a  great  part 
thereof.    Ibid.  iv.  p.  695. 


504  AGITATION  IN  EXETER. 

him,  Freese  made  the  same  answer  :  "  My  Lord  is  a  good 
man."  They  could  get  nothing  from  him  but  this  affecting 
reply.  Alas !  the  light  shone  no  more  upon  his  understand- 
ing, but  the  love  of  Jesus  was  still  in  his  heart.  He  was 
sent  back  to  Bearsy  Abbey,  where  he  did  not  remain  long ; 
but  he  never  entirely  recovered  his  reason.*  Henry  VIII. 
and  his  prieSH  inflicted  punishments  still  more  cruel  even 
than  the  stake. 

Terror  began  to  spread  far  and  wide.  The  most 'active 
evangelists  had  been  compelled  to  flee  to  a  foreign  land ; 
some  of  the  most  godly  were  in  prison  ;  and  among  those  in 
high  station  there  were  many,  and  perhaps  Latimer  was  one, 
who  seemed  willing  to  shelter  themselves  under  an  exagger- 
ated moderation.  But  just  as  the  persecution  in  London  had 
succeeded  in  silencing  the  most  timid,  other  voices  more 
courageous  were  raised  in  the  provinces.  The  city  of  Exeter 
was  at  that  time  in  great  agitation ;  placards  had  been  dis- 
covered on  the  gates  of  the  cathedral  containing  some  of  the 
principles  "of  the  new  doctrine."  "While  the  mayor  and  his 
officers  were  seeking  after  the  author  of  these  "blasphemies," 
the  bishop  and  all  his  doctors,  "  as  hot  as  coals,"  says  the 
chronicler, f  were  preaching  in  the  most  fiery  style.  On  the 
following  Sunday,  during  the  sermon,  two  men  who  had  been 
the  busiest  of  all  the  city  in  searching  for  the  author  of  the 
bills  were  struck  by  the  appearance  of  a  person  seated  near 
them.  "  Surely  this  fellow  is  the  heretic,"  they  said.  But 
their  neighbour's  devotion,  for  he  did  not  take  his  eyes  off 
his  book,  quite  put  them  out;  they  did  not  perceive  that  ho 
was  reading  the  New  Testament  in  Latin. 

This  man,  Thomas  Bennet,  was  indeed  the  offender. 
Being  converted  at  Cambridge  by  the  preaching  of  Bilney, 
whose  friend  he  was,  he  had  gone  to  Torrington  for  fear  of 
the  persecution,  and  thence  to  Exeter,  and  after  marrying  to 
avoid  unchastity  (as  he  says),|  he  became  schoolmaster. 
Quiet,  humble,  courteous  to  every  body,  and  somewhat  timid, 
Bennet  had  lived  six  years  in  that  city  without  his  faith  being 
discovered.  At  last  his  conscience  being  awakened,  he  re- 

*  Foxe,  iv.  p.  695.         '  f  Ibid.  v.  p.  19. 

J  Ut  ne  scortator  aut  immundus  essem,uxorem  duxi.    Ibid,  p.lQ, 


THOMAS  BENNET.  505 

solved  to  fasten  by  night  to  the  cathedral  gates  certain  evan- 
gelical placards.  "  Everybody  will  read  the  writing,"  he 
thought,  and  "  nobody  will  know  the  writer."  He  did  as  he 
had  proposed. 

Not  long  after  the  Sunday  on  which  he  had  been  so  nearly 
discovered,  the  priests  prepared  a  great  pageant,  and  made 
ready  to  pronounce  against  the  unknown  heretic  the  great 
curse,  "with  book,  bell,  and  candle."  The  cathedral  was 
crowded,  and  Bennet  himself  was  among  the  spectators.  In 
the  middle  stood  a  great  cross  on  which  lighted  tapers  were 
placed,  and  around  it  were  gathered  all  the  Franciscans  and 
Dominicans  of  Exeter.  One  of  the  priests  having  delivered 
a  sermon  on  the  words :  There  is  an  accursed  thing  in  the 
midst  ofthee,  0  Israel*  the  bishop  drew  near  the  cross  and 
pronounced  the  curse  against  the  offender.  He  took  one  of 
the  tapers  and  said  :  "  Let  the  soul  of  the  unknovn  heretic, 
if  he  be  dead  already,  be  quenched  this  night  in  the  pains  of 
hell-fire,  as  this  candle  is  now  quenched  and  put  out ;"  and 
with  that  he  put  out  the  candle.  Then  taking  off  a  second, 
he  continued :  "  and  let  us  pray  to  God,  if  he  be  yet  alive, 
that  his  eyes  be  put  cut,  and  that  all  the  senses  of  his  body 
may  fail  him,  as  now  the  light  of  this  candle  is  gone;"  ex- 
tinguishing the  second  candle.  After  this,  one  of  the  priests 
went  up  to  the  cross  and  struck  it,  when  the  noise  it  made 
in  falling  re-echoing  along  the  roof  so  frightened  the  specta- 
tors that  they  uttered  a  shriek  r  f  terror,  and  held  up  their 
hands  to  heaven,  as  if  to  pray  that  the  divine  curse  might 
not  fall  on  them.  Bennet,  a  witness  of  this  comedy,  could 
not  forbear  smiling.  "What  are  you  laughing  at?"  asked 
his  neighbours ;  "  here  is  the  heretic,  here  is  the  heretic,  hold 
him  fast."  This  created  great  confusion  among  the  crowd, 
some  shouting,  some  clapping  their  hands,  others  running 
to  and  fro ;  but,  o\ving  to  the  tumult,  Bennet  succeeded  in 
making  his  escape. 

The  excommunication  did  but  increase  his  desire  to  at- 
tack the  Romish  superstitions;  and  accordingly,  before  five 
o'clock  the  next  morning  (it  was  in  the  month  of  October 
1530),  his  servant-boy  fastened  up  again  by  his  orders  ou 
•  Jcehua,  vii.  13. 
22* 


506  DISCUSSIONS  WITH  BENNET. 

the  cathedra]  gates  some  placards  similar  to  those  which  had 
been  torn  down.  It  chanced  that  a  citizen  going  to  early 
mass  saw  the  boy,  and  running  up  to  him,  caught  hold  of 
him  and  pulled  down  the  papers ;  and  then  dragging  the  boy 
with  one  hand,  and  with  the  placards  in  the  other,  he  went 
to  the  mayor  of  the  city.  Bonnet's  servant  was  recognised  ; 
his  master  was  immediately  arrested,  and  put  in  the  stocks, 
"with  as  much  favour  as  a  dog  would  find,"  says  Foxe. 

Exeter  seemed  determined  to  make  itself  the  champion 
of  sacerdotalism  in  England.  For  a  whole  week,  not 
only  the  bishop,  but  all  the  priests  and  friars  of  the  city, 
visited  Bennet  night  and  day.  But  they  tried  in  vain  to 
prove  to  him  that  the  Roman  church  was  the  true  one. 
"  God  has  given  me  grace  to  be  of  a  better  church,"  he  said. 
— "  Do  you  not  know  that  ours  is  built  upon  St  Peter?" — 
"The  church  that  is  built  upon  a  man,"  he  replied,  "is  the 
devil's  church  and  not  God's."  His  cell  was  continually 
thronged  with  visitors ;  and,  in  default  of  arguments,  the 
most  ignorant  of  the  friars  called  the  prisoner  a  heretic,  and 
spat  upon  him.  At  length  they  brought  to  him  a  learned 
doctor  of  theology,  who,  they  supposed,  would  infallibly  con- 
vert him.  "Our  ways  are  God's  ways,"  said  the  doctor 
gravely.  But  he  soon  discovered  that  theologians  can 
do  nothing  against  the  word  of  the  Lord.  "  He  only  is  my 
way,"  replied  Bennet,  "  who  saith,  1  am  the  way,  the  truth, 
and  the  life.  In  his  way  \vill  I  walk  ; — his  truth  will  I  em- 
brace ; — his  everlasting  life  will  I  seek."  • 

He  was  condemned  to  be  burnt;  and  More  having  trans- 
mitted the  order  de  comburendo  with  the  utmost  speed,  the 
priests  placed  Bennet  in  the  hands  of  the  sheriff  on  the  15th 
of  January  1531,  by  whom  he  was  conducted  to  the  Livery- 
dole,  a  field  without  the  city,  where  the  stake  was  pre- 
pared. When  Bennet  arrived  at  the  place  of  execution,  he 
briefly  exhorted  the  people,  but  with  such  unction,  that  the 
sheriff's  clerk,  as  he  heard  him,  exclaimed :  "  Truly  this  is 
a  servant  of  God."  Two  persons,  however,  seemed  un- 
moved :  they  were  Thomas  Carew,  and  John  Barnehouse, 
both  holding  the  station  of  gentlemen.  Going  up  to  the 
martyr,  they  exclaimed  in  a  threatening  voice  :  "  Say,  Pre~ 


HIS  MARTYRDOM.  507 

cor  sanctam  Mariam  et  omnes  fanctos  Dei" — "  I  know  no 
other  advocate  but  Jesus  Christ,"  replied  Bennet.  Barne- 
house  was  so  enraged  at  these  words,  that  he  took  a  furze-bush 
upon  a  pike,  and  setting  it  on  fire,  thrust  it  into  the  mar- 
tyr's face,  exclaiming:  "Accursed  heretic,  pray  to  our  Lady, 
or  I  will  make  you  do  it." — "  Alas !"  replied  Bennet  patient- 
ly, "trouble  me  not;"  and  then  holding  up  his  hands,  he 
prayed :  "  Father,  forgive  them !"  The  executioners  imme- 
diately set  fire  to  the  wood,  and  the  most  fanatical  of  the 
spectators,  both  men  and  women,  seized  with  an  indescrib- 
able fury,  tore  up  stakes  and  bushes,  and  whatever  they 
could  lay  their  hands  on,  and  flung  them  all  into  the  flames 
to  increase  their  violence.  Bennet,  lifting  up  his  eyes  to  hea- 
ven, exclaimed :  "  Lord,  receive  my  spirit."  Thus  died,  in 
the  Sixteenth  century,  the  disciples  of  the  Reformation  sacri- 
ficed by  Henry  VIII. 

The  priests,  thanks  to  the  king's  sword,  began  to  count 
on  victory;  yet  schoolmasters,  musicians,  tradesmen,  and 
even  ecclesiastics,  were  not  enough  for  them.  They  wanted 
nobler  victims,  and  these  were  to  be  looked  for  in  London. 
More  himself,  accompanied  by  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower, 
searched  many  of  the  suspected  houses.*  Few  citizens  were 
more  esteemed  in  London  than  John  Petit,  the  same  who,  in 
the  house  of  commons,  had  so  nobly  resisted  the  king's  de- 
mand about  the  loan.  Petit  was  learned  in  history  and  in 
Latin  literature :  he  spoke  with  eloquence,  and  for  twenty 
years  had  worthily  represented  the  city.  Whenever  any 
important  affair  was  debated  in  parliament,  the  king  feeling 
uneasy,  was  in  the  habit  of  inquiring,  which  side  he  took  ? 
Tin's  political  independence,  very  rare  in  Henry's  parlia- 
ments, gave  umbrage  to  the  prince  and  his  ministers.  Petit, 
the  friend  of  Bilney,  Fryth,  and  Tyndale,  had  been  one  of 
the  first  in  England  to  taste  the  sweetness  of  God's  word,f 
and  had  immediately  manifested  that  beautiful  characteristic 
by  which  the  gospel  faith  makes  itself  known,  namely,  charity. 
He  abounded  in  almsgiving,  supported  a  great  number  of 
poor  preachers  of  the  gospel  in  his  own  country  and  beyond 
the  seas;  and  whenever  he  noted  down  these  generous  aids  in 
*  Strype,  i.  j>.  812.  f  Hid. 


508  JOHN  PETIT,  M.P.  FOR  LONDON. 

his  books,  he  wrote  merely  the  words :  "  Lent,  unto  Christ."* 
He  moreover  forbade  his  testamentary  executors  to  call  in 
these  debts. 

Petit  was  tranquilly  enjoying  the  sweets  of  domestic  life  in 
his  modest  home  in  the  society  of  his  wife  and  two  daughters, 
Blanche  and  Audrey,  when  he  received  an  unexpected  visit. 
One  clay,  as  he  was  praying  in  his  closet,  a  loud  knock  was 
heard  at  the  street  door.  His  wife  ran  to  open  it,  but  seeing 
Lord-chancellor  More,  she  returned  hurriedly  to  her  hus- 
band, and  told  him  that  the  lord-chancellor  wanted  him. 
More,  who  followed  her,  entered  the  closet,  and  with  inquisi- 
tive eye  ran  over  the  shelves  of  the  library,  but  could  find 
nothing  suspicious.  Presently  he  made  as  if  he  would  re- 
tire, and  Petit  accompanied  him.  The  chancellor  stopped  at 
the  door  and  said  to  him  :  "You  assert  that  you  have  none 
of  these,  new  books?" — "You  have  seen  my  library,"  replied 
Petit. — "  I  am  informed,  however,"  replied  More,  "  that  you 
not  only  read  them,  but  pay  for  the  printing."  And  then  he 
added  in  a  severe  tone  :  "  Follow  the  lieutenant."  In  spite 
of  the  tears  of  his  wife  and  daughters  this  independent  mem- 
ber of  parliament  was  conducted  to  the  Tower,  and  shut  up 
in  a  damp  dungeon,  where  he  had  nothing  but  straw  to  lie 
upon.  His  wife  went  thither  each  day  in  vain,  asking  with 
tears  permission  to  see  him,  or  at  least  to  send  him  a  bed  ;  the 
jailers  refused  her  everything ;  and  it  was  only  when  Petit 
fell  dangerously  ill  that  the  latter  favour  was  granted  him. 
This  took  place  in  1580,  sentence  was  passed  in  1531  ;•}-  we 
shall  see  Petit  again  in  his  prison.  He  left  it,  indeed,  but 
only  to  sink  under  the  cruel  treatment  he  had  there  ex- 
perienced. 

Thus  were  the  witnesses  to  the  truth  struck  down  by  the 
priests,  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  by  Henry  VIII.  A  new 
victim  was  to  be  the  cause  of  many  tears.  A  meek  and 
humble  man,  one  deal  to  all  the  friends  of  the  gospel,  and 
whom  we  may  regard  as  the  spiritual  father  of  the  Reforma- 
tion in  England,  was  on  the  point  of  mounting  the  burning 
pile  raised  by  his  persecutors.  Some  time  prior  to  Petit's 
appearance  before  his  judges,  which  took  place  in  1531,  an 
*  Strype,  i.  p.  314  f  IbM-  P-  312. 


BILNEY  SETS  HIS  FACE  TOWARDS  JERUSALEM.  509 

unusual  noise  was  heard  in  the  cell  above  him:  it  vas 
Thomas  Bilney,  whom  they  were  conducting  to  the  Tower.* 
We  left  him  at  the  end  of  1528  after  his  fall.  Bilney  had 
returned  to  Cambridge  tormented  by  remorse ;  his  friends  in 
vain  crowded  round  him  by  night  and  by  day ;  they  could 
not  console  him,  and  even  the  Scriptures  seemed  to  utter  no 
voice  but  that  of  condemnation. -J-  Fear  made  him  tremble 
constantly,  and  he  could  scarcely  cat  or  drink.  At  length  a 
heavenly  and  unexpected  light  dawned  in  the  heart  of  the 
fallen  disciple ;  a  witness  whom  he  had  vexed — the  Holy 
Spirit — spoke  once  more  in  his  heart.  Bilney  fell  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross,  shedding  floods  of  tears,  and  there  he  found 
peace.  But  the  more  God  comforted  him,  the  greater 
seemed  his  crime.  One  only  thought  possessed  him,  that  of 
giving  his  life  for  the  truth.  He  had  shrunk  from  before  the 
burning  pile;  its  flames  must  now  consume  him.  Neither 
the  weakness  of  his  body,  which  his  long  anguish  had  much 
increased,  nor  the  cruelty  of  his  enemies,  nor  his  natural 
timidity,  nothing  could  stop  him  :  he  strove  for  the  martyr's 
crown.  At  ten  o'clock  one  night,  when  every  person  in 
Trinity  Hall  was  retiring  to  rest,  Bilney  called  his  friends 
round  him,  reminded  them  of  his  fall,  and  added :  "  You 

shall  see  me  no  more Do  not  stay  me:  my  decision  is 

formed,  and  I  shall  carry  it  out.  My  face  is  set  to  go  to 
Jerusalem.''^  Bilney  repeated  the  words  used  by  the  Evan- 
gelist, when  he  describes  Jesus  going  up  to  the  city  where  he 
was  to  be  put  to  death.  Having  shaken  hands  whh  his 
brethren,  this  venerable  man,  the  foremost  of  the  evangelists 
of  England  in  order  of  time,  left  Cambridge  under  cover  of 
the  night,  and  proceeded  to  Norfolk,  to  confirm  in  the  faith 
those  who  had  believed,  and  to  invite  the  ignorant  multitude 
to  the  Saviour.  We  shall  not  follow  him  in  this  last  and 
sol  -inn  ministry;  these  facts  and  others  of  the  same  kind 
Iml./ng  to  a  later  date.  Before  the  year  1531  closed  in, 
Bilney,  Bainham,  Bayficld,  Tewkesbury,  and  many  others, 

•  Ibid.  p.  313. 

f  He  thought  that  all  the  while  the  Scriptures  were  against 
Latinier's  Sermons,  p.  52. 
;  Fo&c,  ir.  p.  642.    See  Luke  ix.  51. 


510  WOLSEY'S  TERROR  AT  ESHER. 

struck  by  Henry's  sword,  sealed  by  their  blood  the  testi- 
mony rendered  by  them  to  the  perfect  grace  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

» 

Wolsey's  Terror — Impeachment  by  the  Peers— Cromwell  saves  him — 
The  Cardinal's  Illness— Ambition  returns  to  him — His  Practices  in 
Yorkshire— He  is  arrested  by  Northumberland — His  Departure— Ar- 
rival of  the  Constable  of  the  Tower— Wolsey  at  Leicester  Abbey — 
Persecuting  language — He  dies  —  Three  Movements:  Supremacy, 
Scripture,  and  Faith. 

WHILE  many  pious  Christians  were  languishing  in  the 
prisons  of  England,  the  great  antagonist  of  the  Reformation 
was  disappearing  from  the  stage  of  this  world.  We  must 
return  to  Wolsey,  who  was  still  detained  at  Eshcr.* 

The  cardinal,  fallen  from  the  summit  of  honours,  was 
seized  with  those  panic  terrors  usually  felt  after  their  dis- 
grace by  those  who  have  made  a  whole  nation  tremble,  and 
he  fancied  he  saw  an  assassin  lay  hid  behind  every  door. 
u  This  very  night,"  he  wrote  to  Cromwell  on  one  occasion, 
"  I  was  as  one  that  should  have  died.  If  I  might,  I  would 
not  fail  to  come  on  foot  to  you,  rather  than  this  my  speak- 
ing with  you  shall  be  put  over  and  delayed.  If  the  dis- 
pleasure of  my  lady  Anne  be  somewhat  assuaged,  as  I  pray 
God  the  same  may  be,  then  I  pray  you  exert  all  possible 
means  of  attaining  her  favour."-}- 

In  consequence  of  this,  Cromwell  hastened  down  to  Esher 
two  or  three  days  after  taking  his  seat  in  Parliament,  and 
Wolsey,  all  trembling,  recounted  his  fears  to  him.  "  Norfolk, 
Suffolk,  and  Lady  Anne  perhaps,  desire  my  death.J  Did  not 

*  Burnet  and  some  more  modern  historians  are,  in  my  opinion,  mis- 
taken when  they  state  that  Wolsey  was  present  in  Parliament  at  tho 
clo*e  of  1.529.  See  State  Papers,  i.  p.  347  to  354. 

•f-  State  Papers,  vol.  i.  p.  351,  mutilated  by  fire. 

4.  Timebc-.t  sibi  damnum  et  pcriculum  de  corpore  suo  per  quosdam  suos 
semulos.  Ryuier,  Foodcra,  p.  1 39. 


GRIEVANCES  OF  THE  PEERS  AGAINST  WOLSEY.  511 

Thomas  2l  Becket,  an  archbishop  like  me,  stain  the  altar 

with  his  Wood?" Cromwell  reassured  him,  and,  moved 

by  the  old  man's  fears,  asked  and  obtained  of  Henry  an 
order  of  protection. 

Wolsey's  enemies  most  certainly  desired  his  death ;  but  it 
was  from  the  justice  of  the  three  estates,  and  not  by  the 
assassin's  dagger,  that  they  sought  it.  The  house  of  peers 
authorized  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk, 
and  fourteen  other  lords,  to  impeach  the  cardinal-legate  of 
high  treason.  They  forgot  nothing :  that  haughty  formula, 
Ego  ct  rex  meus,  I  and  my  king,"  which  "VVolsey  had  often 
employed;  his  infringement  of  the  laws  of  the  kingdom; 
his  monopolizing  the  church  revenues;  the  crying  injus- 
tice of  which  he  had  been  guilty, — as  for  instance,  in  the 
case  of  Sir  John  Stanley,  who  was  sent  to  prison  until  ho 
gave  up  a  lease  to  the  son  of  a  woman  who  had  borne  the 
cardinal  two  children ;  many  familias  ruined  to  satisfy  his 
avarice ;  treaties  concluded  with  foreign  powers  without  the 
king's  order ;  his  exactions,  which  had  impoverished  Eng- 
land ;  and  the  foul  diseases  and  infectious  breath  with  which 
he  had  polluted  his  majesty's  presence.*  These  were  some 
of  the  forty-four  grievances  presented  by  the  peers  to  the 
king,  and  which  Henry  sent  down  to  the  lower  house  for 
their  consideration. 

It  was  at  first  thought  that  nobody  in  the  commons 
would  undertake  Wolsey's  defence,  and  it  was  generally  ex- 
pected that  he  would  be  given  up  to  the  vengeance  of  the 
law  (as  the  bill  of  impeachment  prayed),  or  in  other  word?, 
to  the  axe  of  the  executioner.  But  one  man  stood  up,  and 
prepared,  though  alone,  to  defend  the  cardinal:  this  was 
Cromwell.  The  members  asked  of  each  other,  who  the  un- 
known man  was;  he  soon  made  himself  known.  Ilia 
knowledge  of  facts,  his  familiarity  with  the  laws,  the  force 
of  his  eloquence,  and  the  moderation  of  his  language,  sur- 
prised the  house.  Wolsey's  adversaries  had  hardly  aiuud 
a  blow,  before  the  defender  had  already  parried  it.  If  any 
charge  was  brought  forward  to  which  he  could  not  reply,  he 
proposed  an  adjournment  until  the  next  day,  departed  for 
•  Article  vi.  Herbert,  p.  235 


512  CROMWELL  SAVES  WOLSEY. 

Esher  at  the  end  of  the  sitting,  conferred  with  "Wolsey,  re- 
turned during  the  night,  and  next  morning  reappeared  in  the 
commons  with  fresh  arms.  Cromwell  carried  the  house 
with  him ;  the  impeachment  failed,  and  Wolsey's  defender 
took  his  station  among  the  statesmen  of  England.  This 
victory,  one  of  the  greatest  triumphs  of  parliamentary  elo- 
quence at  that  period,  satisfied  both  the  ambition  and  the 
gratitude  of  Cromwell.  He  was  now  firmly  fixed  in  the 
king's  favour,  esteemed  by  the  commons,  and  admired  by 
the  people :  circumstances  which  furnished  him  with  the 
means  of  bringing  to  a  favourable  conclusion  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  church  of  England. 

The  ministry,  composed  of  Wolsey's  enemies,  was  annoyed 
at  the  decision  of  the  lower  house,  and  appointed  a  commis- 
sion to  examine  into  the  matter.  When  the  cardinal  was 
informed  of  this  he  fell  into  new  terrors.  He  lost  all  appe- 
tite and  desire  of  sleep,*  and  a  fever  attacked  him  at  Christ- 
mas. "The  cardinal  will  be  dead  in  four  days,"  said  his 
physician  to  Henry,  "  if  he  receives  no  comfort  shortly  from 
you  and  lady  Anne." — "  I  would  not  lose  him  for  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds,"  exclaimed  the  king.  He  desired  to  preserve 
Wolsey  in  case  his  old  minister's  consummate  ability  should 
become  necessary,  which  was  hyno  means  unlikely.  Henry 
gave  the  doctor  his  portrait  in  a  ring,  and  Anne,  at  the  king's 
desire,  added  the  tablet  of  gold  that  hung  at  her  girdle. 
The  delighted  cardinal  placed  the  presents  on  his  bed,  and 
as  he  gazed  on  them  he  felt  his  strength  return.  He  was 
removed  from  his  miserable  dwelling  at  Esher  to  the  royal 
palace  at  Richmond,  arid  before  long  he  was  able  to  go  into 
the  park,  where  every  night  he  read  his  breviary. 

Ambition  and  hope  returned  with  life.  If  the  king  de- 
sired to  destroy  the  papal  power  in  England,  could  not  the 
proud  cardinal  preserve  it?  Might  not  Thomas  Wolsey  do 
under  Henry  VIII.  what  Thomas  a  Uecket  had  done  under 
Henry  II.  His  see  of  York,  the  ignorance  of  the  priests, 
the  superstition  of  the  people,  the  discontent  of  the  great, — 
all  would  be  of  service  to  him ;  and  indeed,  six  years  later, 

*  Cum  prostratione  appetitus  et  contiuuo  insomuio.  Wolsey  to  Gar- 
<liucr  ;  Cavendish,  Appendix,  p.  474. 


WOLSEY  IN  YORKSHIRE.  513 

40,000  men  were  under  arras  in  a  moment  in  Yorkshire 
to  defend  the  cause  of  Rome.  Wolsey,  strong  in  England 
by  the  support  of  the  nation  (such  at  least  was  his  opinion), 
aided  without  by  the  pope  and  the  continental  powers,  might 
give  the  law  to  Henry,  and  crush  the  Reformation. 

The  king  having  permitted  him  to  go  to  York,  Wolsey 
prayed  for  an  increase  to  his  archicpiscopal  revenues,  which 
amounted,  however,  to  four  thousand  pounds  sterling.* 
Henry  granted  him  a  thousand  marks,  and  the  cardinal, 
shortly  before  Easter  1530,  departed  with  a  train  of  160 
persons.  He  thought  it  was  the  beginning  of  his  triumph. 

Wolsey  took  up  his  abode  at  Cawood  Castle,  Yorkshire, 
one  of  his  archiepiscopal  residences,  and  strove  to  win  the 
affections  of  the  people.  This  prelate,  once  "  the  haughtiest 
of  men,"  says  George  Cavendish,  the  man  who  knew  him  and 
served  him  best,  became  quite  a  pattern  of  affability.  He  kept 
an  open  table,  distributed  bounteous  alms  at  his  gate,  said 
mass  in  the  village  churches,  went  and  dined  with  the  neigh- 
bouring gentry,  gave  splendid  entertainments,  and  wrote  to 
several  princes  imploring  their  help.  We  are  assured  that 
he  even  requested  the  pope  to  excommunicate  Henry  VIII. -j- 
All  being  thus  prepared,  he  thought  he  might  make  his  so- 
lemn entry  into  York,  preparatory  to  his  enthronization, 
which  was  fixed  for  Monday  the  5th  of  November. 

Every  movement  of  his  was  known  at  court;  every  action 
was  canvassed,  and  its  importance  exaggerated.  "  We 
thought  we  had  brought  him  down,"  some  said,  "  and  here 
he  is  rising  up  again."  Henry  himself  was  alarmed.  "  The 
cardinal,  by  his  detestable  intrigues,"  he  said, "is  conspiring 
against  my  crown,  and  plotting  both  at  home  and  abroad  ;" 
the  king  even  added,  where  and  how.\  Wolsey's  destruc- 
tion was  resolved  upon. 

The  morning  after  All  Saints  day  (Friday,  2d  November) 
the  earl  of  Northumberland,  attended  by  a  numerous  escort, 
arrived  at  Cawood,  where  the  cardinal  was  still  residing. 

•  State  Papers,  voL  i.  p.  354. 
+  Hall,  p.  773. 

J  Cosi  mi  disse  el  Re,  che  contra  de  S.  M.  el  machinaya  nel  reguo  o 
fuori,  ct  m'a  detto  dove  e  come.  Le  Grand,  Preuves,  p.  529. 


514  IS  ARRESTED  BY  NORTHUMBERLAND. 

He  was  the  same  Percy  whose  affection  for  Anne  Bolcyu 
had  been  thwarted  by  Wolsey ;  and  there  may  have  been 
design  in  Henry's  choice.  The  cardinal  eagerly  moved  for- 
ward to  meet  this  unexpected  guest,  and  impatient  to  know 
the  object  of  his  mission,  took  him  into  his  bed-chamber, 
under  the  pretence  of  changing  his  travelling  dress.*  They 
both  remained  some  time  standing  at  a  window  without 
uttering  a  word;  the  earl  looked  confused  and  agitated, 
whilst  Wolsey  endeavoured  to  repress  his  emotion.  But  at 
last,  with  a  strong  effort,  Northumberland  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  arm  of  his  former  master,  and  with  a  low  voice  said : 
"  My  lord,  I  arrest  you  for  high  treason."  The  cardinal  re- 
mained speechless,  as  if  stunned.  He  was  kept  a  prisoner 
in  his  room. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  Wolsey  was  guilty  of  the  crime 
with  which  he  was  charged.  We  may  believe  that  he  enter- 
tained the  idea  of  some  day  bringing  about  the  triumph  of 
the  popedom  in  England,  even  should  it  cause  Henry's  ruin ; 
but  perhaps  this  was  all.  But,  an  idea  is  not  a  conspiracy, 
although  it  may  rapidly  expand  into  one. 

More  than  three  thousand  persons  (attracted  not  by  ha- 
tred, like  the  Londoners,  when  Wolsey  departed  from  White- 
hall but  by  enthusiasm),  collected  the  next  day  before  the 
castle  to  salute  the  cardinal.  "  God  save  your  grace,"  they 
shouted  on  every  side,  and  a  numerous  crowd  escorted  him 
at  night ;  some  carried  torches  in  their  hands,  and  all  made 
the  air  re-echo  with  their  cries.  The  unhappy  prelate  was 
conducted  to  Sheffield  Park,  the  residence  of  the  earl  of 
Shrewsbury.  Some  days  after  his  arrival,  the  faithful  Ca- 
vendish ran  to  him,  exclaiming :  "  Good  news,  my  lord ! 
Sir  William  Kingston  and  twenty-four  of  the  guard  are 
come  to  escort  you  to  his  majesty." — "  Kingston !"  exclaimed 
the  cardinal,  turning  pale,  "  Kingston  ! "  and  then  slapping 
his  hand  on  his  thigh,  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  This  news  had 
crushed  his  mind.  One  day  a  fortune-teller,  whom  he  con- 
sulted, had  told  him  :  You  shall  have  your  end  at  Kingston  ; 
and  from  that  time  the  cardinal  had  carefully  avoided  the  town 
of  Kingston-on-Thames.  But  now  he  thought  he  under- 
*  And  thero  you  may  shift  your  apparel.  Cavendish,  p.  347. 


SIR  V.  KINGSTON  ARRIVES.  515 

stood  the  prophecy Kingston,  constable  of  the  Tower, 

was  about  to  cause  his  death.  They  left  Sheffield  Park  ; 
but  fright  had  given  Wolsey  his  death-blow.  Several  times 
he  was  near  falling  from  his  mule,  and  on  the  third  day, 
when  they  reached  Leicester  abbey,  he  said  as  he  entered : 
"  Father  abbot,  I  am  come  hither  to  leave  my  bones  among 
you ;"  and  immediately  took  to  his  bed.  This  was  on  Satur- 
day the  26th  of  November. 

On  Monday  morning,  tormented  by  gloomy  forebodings, 
Wolsey  asked  what  was  the  time  of  day.  "  Past  eight 
o'clock,"  replied  Cavendish. — "  That  cannot  be,"  said  the  car- 
dinal, "  eight  o'clock No !  for  by  eight  o'clock  you  shall 

lose  your  master."  At  six  on  Tuesday,  Kingston  having 
come  to  inquire  about  his  health,  Wolsey  said  to  him :  "  I 
shall  not  live  long." — "  Be  of  good  cheer,"  rejoined  the  gov- 
ernor of  the  Tower. — "  Alas,  Master  Kingston,"  exclaimed 
the  cardinal,  "  if  I  had  served  God  as  diligently  as  I  have 
served  the  king,  he  would  not  have  given  me  over  in  my 
grey  hairs ! "  and  then  he  added  with  downcast  head :  "  This 
is  my  just  reward."  "What  a  judgment  upon  his  own  life  ! 

On  the  very  threshold  of  eternity  (for  he  had  but  a  few 
minutes  more  to  live)  the  cardinal  summoned  up  all  his  hatred 
against  the  Reformation,  and  made  a  last  effort.  The  per- 
secution was  too  slow  to  please  him :  "  Master  Kingston," 
he  said,  "  attend  to  my  last  request :  tell  the  king  that  I 
conjure  him  in  God's  name  to  destroy  this  new  pernicious 
sect  of  Lutherans."  And  then,  with  astonishing  presence 
of  mind  in  this  his  last  hour,  Wolsey  described  the  misfor- 
tunes which  the  Hussites  had,  in  his  opinion,  brought  upon 
Bohemia;  and  then,  coming  to  England,  he  recalled  the 
times  of  Wickliffe  and  Sir  John  Oldcastle.  He  grew  ani- 
mated ;  his  dying  eyes  yet  shot  forth  fiery  glances.  He 
trembled  lest  Henry  VIII.,  unfaithful  to  the  pope,  should 
hold  out  his  hand  to  the  Reformers.  "  Master  Kingston," 
said  he,  in  conclusion,  "  the  king  should  know  that  if  lie 
tolerates  heresy,  God  will  take  away  his  power,  and  we  shall 

then  have  mischief  upon  mischief barrenness,  scarcity, 

and  disorder,  to  the  utter  destruction  of  this  realm." 

Wolsey  was  exhausted  by  the  effort.     After  a  momentary 


516  WOLSEY'S  DEATH — HIS  CHARACTER. 

silence,  he  resumed  with  a  dying  voice  :  "  Master  ^Kingston, 
farewell !  My  time  draweth  on  fast.  Forget  not  what  I 
have  said  and  charged  you  withal ;  for  when  I  am  dead  ye 
shall  pcrad venture  understand  my  words  better."  It  was 
•with  'difficulty  he  uttered  these  words  ;  his  tongue  hegan  to 
falter,  his  eyes  became  fixed,  his  sight  failed  him  ;  he  breathed 
his  last.  At  the  same  minute  the  clock  struck  eight,  and  the 
attendants  standing  round  his  bed  looked  at  each  other  in 
affright.  It  was  the  29th  of  November  1530. 

Thus  died  the  man  once  so  much  feared.  Power  had 
been  his  idol :  to  obtain  it  in  the  state,  lie  had  sacrificed  the 
liberties  of  England  ;  and  to  win  it  or  to  preserve  it  in  the 
church,  he  had  fought  against  the  Reformation.  If  he  en- 
couraged the  nobility  in  the  luxuries  and  pleasures  of  life, 
it  was  only  to  render  them  more  supple  and  more  servile;  if 
lie  supported  learning,  it  was  only  that  he  might  have 
a  clergy  fitted  to  keep  the  laity  in  their  leading-strings. 
Ambitious,  intriguing,  and  impure  of  life,  he  had  been  as 
zealous  for  the  sacerdotal  prerogative  as  the  austere  Becket; 
and  by  a  singular  contrast,  a  shirt  of  hair  was  found  on  the 
body  of  this  voluptuous  man.  The  aim  of  his  life  had 
been  to  raise  the  papal  power  higher  than  it  had  ever 
been  before,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Reforma- 
tion was  attempting  to  bring  it  down;  and  to  take  his  scat 
on  the  pontifical  throne  with  more  than  the  authority  of 
a  Hihlebrand.  Wolscy,  as  pope,  would  have  been  (he 
man  of  his  age ;  and  in  the  political  world  he  would  have 
doneVor  the  Roman  primacy  what  the  celebrated  Loyola  did 
for  it  soon  after  by  his  fanaticism.  Obliged  to  renounce  this 
idea,  worthy  only  of  the  middle  ages,  he  had  desired  at  least 
to  save  the  popcdom  in  his  own  country ;  but  here  again  he 
had  failed.  The  pilot  who  had  stood  in  England  at  the  helm 
of  the  Romish  church  was  thrown  overboard,  and  the  ship, 
left  to  itself,  was  about  to  founder.  And  yet,  even  in  death, 
he  did  not  lose  his  courage.  The  last  throbs  of  his  heart  had 
called  for  victims  ;  the  last  words  from  his  failing  lips,  the 

last  message  to  his  master,  his  last  testament  had  been 

Persecution.  This  testament  was  to  be  only  too  faitlifully 
executed. 


THERE  MOTEMENTS.  517 

The  epoch  of  the  fall  and  death  of  Cardinal  Wolsey,  which 
13  the  point  at  which  we  halt,  was  not  only  important,  be- 
cause it  ended  the  life  of  a  man  who  had  presided  over  the 
destinies  of  England,  and  had  endeavoured  to  grasp  the 
sceptre  of  the  world;  but  it  is  of  especial  consequence,  because 
then  three  movements  were  accomplished,  from  which  the 
great  transformation  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  to  proceed. 
Each  of  these  movements  has  its  characteristic  result. 

The  first  is  represented  by  Cromwell.  The  supremacy  of 
the  pope  in  England  was  about  to  be  wrested  from  him,  as 
it  was  in  all  the  reformed  churches.  But  a  step  further  was 
taken  in  England.  That  supremacy  was  transferred  to  the 
person  of  the  king.  Wolsey  had  exercised  as  vicar-general 
a  power  till  then  unknown.  Unable  to  become  pope  at  the 
Vatican,  he  had  made  himself  a  pope  at  Whitehall.  Henry 
had  permitted  his  minister  to  raise  this  hierarchical  throne  by 
the  side  of  his  own.  But  he  had  soon  discovered  that  there 
ought  not  to  be  two  thrones  in  England,  or  at  least  not  two 
kings.  He  had  dethroned  Wolsey ;  and  resolutely  seating 
himself  in  his  place,  he  was  about  to  assume  at  Whitehall 
that  tiara  which  the  ambitious  prelate  had  prepared  for  him- 
self. Some  persons,  when  they  saw  this,  exclaimed,  that  if 
the  papal  supremacy  were  abolished,  that  of  the  word  of  God 
ought  alone  to  be  substituted.  And,  indeed,  the  true  Refor- 
mation is  not  to  be  found  in  this  first  movement. 

The  second,  which  was  essential  to  the  renewal  of  the 
church,  was  represented  by  Cranmer,  and  consisted  particu- 
larly in  re-establishing  the  authority  of  holy  Scripture.  Wol- 
sey did  not  fall  alone,  nor  did  Cranmer  rise  alone :  each  of 
these  two  men  carried  with  him  the  systems  he  represented. 
The  fabric  of  Roman  traditions  fell  with  the  first ;  the  foun- 
dations of  the  holy  Scriptures  were  laid  by  the  second ;  and 
yet,  while  we  render  all  justice  to  the  sincerity  of  the  Cam- 
bridge doctor,  we  must  not  be  blind  to  his  weaknesses,  his 
subserviency,  and  even  a  certain  degree  of  negligence,  which, 
by  allowing  parasitical  plants  to  shoot  up  here  and  there, 
permitted  them  to  spread  over  the  living  rock  of  God's  word. 
Not  in  this  movement,  then,  was  found  the  Reformation  with 
all  its  energy  and  all  its  purity. 


518  OUR  FATHER  IN  HEAVEN. 

The  third  movement  was  represented  by  the  martyrs. 
When  the  church  takes  a  new  life,  it  is  fertilized  by  the  blocd 
of  its  confessors ;  and  being  continually  exposed  to  corrup- 
tion, it  has  constant  need  to  be  purified  by  suffering.*  Not 
in  the  palaces  of  Henry  VIII.,  nor  even  in  the  councils 
where  the  question  of  throwing  off  the  papal  supremacy  was 
discussed,  must  we  look  for  the  true  children  of  the  Refor- 
mation ;  we  must  go  to  the  Tower  of  London,  to  the  Lollards' 
towers  of  St  Paul's  and  of  Lambeth,  to  the  other  prisons  of 
England,  to  the  bishops'  cellars,  to  the  fetters,  the  stocks,  the 
rack,  and  the  stake.  The  godly  men  who  invoked  the  sole 
intercession  of  Christ  Jesus,  the  only  head  of  his  people,  Avho 
wandered  up  and  down,  deprived  of  everything,  gagged, 
scoffed  at,  scourged,  and  tortured,  and  who,  in  the  midst  of 
all  their  tribulations,  preserved  their  Christian  patience,  and 
turned,  like  their  Master,  the  eyes  of  their  faith  towards 
Jerusalem : — these  were  the  disciples  of  the  Reformation  in 
England.  The  purest  church  is  the  church  under  the  cross. 

The  father  of  this  church  in  England  was  not  Henry  VIII. 
When  the  king  cast  into  prison  or  gave  to  the  flames  men 
like  Hitton,  -Bennet,  Patmore,  Petit,  Bayfield,  Bilney,and  so 
many  others,  he  was  not  "  the  father  of  the  Reformation  ol 
England,"  as  some  have  so  falsely  asserted ;  he  was  its  exe- 
cutioner. 

The  church  of  England  was  foredoomed  to  be,  in  its  reno- 
vation, a  church  of  martyrs ;  and  the  true  father  of  this 
church  is  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 

*  t  Peter  iv.  17. — Plerumque  ecclesia  est  coetus  exiguus  sustinens  Ta/« 
riis  et  ingentes  aerumnas,  Melancthon,  loci. 


END  OP  VOLUME  V> 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

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